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Sunday, May 13, 2012

Hair raising

Potentially alarmed by the lack of any maternal fibres in my body, Mrs Nunn decided she was going to kick-start the process by buying me a few mother and baby magazines.  One of them came with a free Gina Ford book, and the other came with a free car sunscreen, to protect the baby from the sun, on the offchance it ever stops raining.

There were a few interesting articles.  One about how babies seem to like bondage (it's supposed to stop them crying).  There was another about active buggies for active mums, which I dismissed immediately as for the last two weeks, every spare moment has been spent lying flat on my back*.  One of them had an agony aunt column.

"Dear Cynthia

Ever since I entered my second trimester, I've noticed my hair isn't as shiny as it used to be.  Can you recommend something?

From Jane in Dorset"

Yes, Jane, I can recommend something.  Fuck off.  Fuck right off.  Right off.  Off you fuck.

Seriously?  Lack of shiny hair?  That's your biggest problem?  You had to write to a magazine to get advice on it?  Fuck off.

I can't remember the last time I even bothered looking at my hair.  By the time I've managed to select clothes that almost fit, have noticed that my entire upper body is alternately covered in spots and hair (Timotei shiny though it may be), noticed that my tummy button has grown two more centimetres overnight, have limped downstairs because of the backache, and then suffered through an hour of heartburn and two packets of Gaviscon, what my barnet looks like is absolutely at the bottom of the list.  I'm lucky if I can be bothered to put a bra on most days.  For all I know I could be completely bald.


So Jane, do me a favour.  Fuck off.  Thank you.  And if the thought of sitting on a train for three hours with backache wasn't enough to put me off, I'd be over to Dorset straight away to twat you myself.

By the way, I think pregnancy makes me more bad tempered than usual.

*This is not just extreme laziness - it's helping with the back pain.  I have started to think about what sort of jobs I could hold down whilst prostate.  The only one I've come up with so far is prostitute.


Judy said...

I always thought "twat" was a noun. Who knew it was a verb as well?

Laura said...

Oh yes, it's a very flexible word:

Noun: I kicked her right in the twat

Verb: I'm going to twat you in the twat

Adjective: TheBloke (TM) was being twatty this afternoon

Adverb: He was walking down the street twattishly.

Some new phrases to try out in the office.


Judy said...

Thanks. Learn something every day! By the way - one other thing you could do on your back - repaint the Sistine Chapel. I believe it's looking a bit jaded.