Pardon My French

For hire

Last night, the idea popped into my head that I should try to rent myself out as birth control for teenagers. I'm pretty sure I'd be really good at it...I think I could put them off of sex for at least 2 whole months. (I mean, come on, let's be realistic -- we're talking about teenagers here).

Here's the idea -- just stick me in a room with your little pubescent darlings and between the crankiness, rampant mood swings and trauma-inducing physique (not to mention other fun odors that come with pregnancy...I'm sure if you've been there, you all know what I'm talking about.* And if you don't, here's a word of advice: if the elevator door opens and you see a very pregnant woman standing there, you might want to take the stairs.), they're sure not to want to touch each other for a little while.

For a small extra fee, I'll show them my belly button and make them rub cream onto my belly while I agonize over stretch marks. The deluxe treatment will include a total "Pardon My French Freak Out Session" that is triggered by some woman having the nerve to tell me, "I loved being pregnant! It was the best time of my life! And I only gained 9 kilos the entire time! How much weight have you gained?" (I mean, seriously, go ahead and brag all you want after the kid gets here. But it's just cruel to say something like that to someone in my condition). It's sure to send me into a raving fit that your child will never forget.

I think it's a fantastic idea, personally. Making them watch a live birth and then deal with a newborn is too traumatic...we don't want to put them off forever, right?...so this is a perfect compromise between that and caring for the stupid hard-boiled eggs. I'm having the brochures printed right now. Any takers? Rent me while you can!

*And in case this is not a common side effect of pregnancy, then all the more reason you should hire me and not some other overly pregnant woman. Trust me on this one.

*****

On a completely different note, I (finally) give you a photo of the infamous not-so-facile baby sweater. I didn't bother trying to make the buttonholes look completely even; I tell myself it's part of the charm. At the end, my MIL had mercy on me and helped me with the buttonholes since I had never done them before and it turns out not to be so easy doing that in seed stitch. But it's done!