I went to lunch with my two BFFs from my last job (a monthly ritual that's been on hold for about 2 months due to one friend having a baby). So, we've got pregnormous me, newly mommed out friend, and friend with her live-in BF (no ring, no baby). I was like, "Shit. Baby talk is going to take over this lunch and that's a super shitty thing to do."
So, I made a list- A LIST- of non-baby topics to talk about. Like the story where this girl in Spain made out with a random guy at a bar and ended up with corpse maggets on her lip, the nurse who ate her foot skin during meetings, my brother-in-law's batshitcrazy girlfriend, the UA I took at work this week when they gave me a broken cup and pee went all over me & the bathroom floor and I had to sit there for another hour percolating the ole bladder in pee clothes while the tech scrubbed the bathroom floor.
Damn. I've got some good stories. But these days all I end up talking about are my braxton-hix contractions, the size of my belly, the size of my ass, the nursery color, paint, furniture, and our multiples class that starts Monday....
I guess (as my doctor is saying to me a lot these days), it only gets worse. Pretty soon I'll be on Baby House Arrest and I'll only talk about breast milk, baby bowel movements, and sleep schedules. What an effing snoozefest I'll be....
No comments:
Post a Comment