Today I was on the bus at the same time as the kids heading home from school. It’s funny to think that in ten years I’ll own one of those public-transport-traveling kids that doesn’t always stand up for adults, who’s bag is so big it takes out passengers with every move its owner makes and who talks far too loudly about inappropriate things.
Today I was regaled with a ten year old’s version of a blowjob.
“I had to tell Christopher, he was always asking what it was.”
“So what did you tell him?” asks a girl, who I don’t think knows herself.
“I told him it was when a male unicorn asked a female unicorn to touch his horn with her tongue.”
I was the only adult in the general vicinity and I couldn’t help but have a quite chuckle into my newspaper. What a fabulously euphemistic definition. I was impressed.
I am a long way from having to host those sorts of discussions with our offspring, given that according to this week’s baby notice, the peanut’s bones are starting to harden and I may start to feel it move inside me. It also adds that if I don’t it could be because I am;
b/ my uterus is in a weird position (not the technical term but who really understands those anyway)
They’re not particularly euphemistic in their wording are they? Where’s all the nurturing, mother-love talk everyone always mentions? I must have picked up the ‘pregnancy for tough broads’ book instead.
I haven’t felt a thing in my stomach except for wind, cramps and a slight pain, which I fear is a possible tear in my abdominal muscles (the result of a run I suspect). I like to think it’s because I am incubating a respectful, polite baby who will stand up on buses, who won’t sideswipe everyone in the head with their boulder sized bag and who definitely doesn’t talk about blowjobs on public transport!