Baby Washing

“How many women does it take to wash one teeny baby?” asked my rather bemused friend ‘Tyres’ when he heard that I had spent upwards of six hours in the company of my very pregnant best friend and a raft of other women on Saturday. I’d never been to a baby shower before having only ever seen them on Hollywood movies and so was half expecting Jennifer Aniston to rock up wearing pastel colours bearing a diaper cake and Gucci booties.

It was a bit of a shock when Marmaloid’s bump appeared at the door followed a few moments later by the rest of her. The last time I saw her she had the merest suggestion of a bump that could have just been a food baby whereas now – TA DOW! Mama’s definitely got one brewing… My money is on it being a boy because from the back you can’t even tell she’s pregnant as she still has a neat little bottom (the cow).

It was lovely to get together with women of various generations to celebrate the impending arrival, Marms looked positively glowing and it brought a couple of tears to my eyes to see her sat stroking her big old bump. When did we get old enough to have babies? It feels like Marmaloid is blazing the trail for the rest of us to follow, I’m lagging behind a little bit but it just means that by the time it’s my turn to do all this I’m going to have an army of knowledgable lady types to hold my hand and reassure me that by the time I’ve pushed a child through my vagina and survived I’ll be able to take on even the stinkiest of nappies.

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