Sounds a bit like a children’s book involving chickens and a dramatic escape from Sunday dinner…. But no, it was my afternoon… While getting petrol today I was standing behind a woman juggling a baby and the worlds most enormous handbag… Obviously her wallet had made a break for the base of the handbag… She looked at me apologetically, for holding up the line… I made the “it’s ok I’m in no hurry” with a smile face… Then somehow I am holding a three month or so baby while she dives into the handbag of bigness with both hands…
Two things… I am a large tattooed man, why do people hand me things like babies!!!! And the other thing is??? Let’s just say it’s a very good thing I don’t have a uterus… Or I would be out this weekend trying to get knocked up (insert heart song here)… Had a weird clucky moment, I suddenly missed having a baby, my youngest is now 8 (were did that time go!)… I was good a babies… No really!!! Other than providing high quality DNA, I was good at looking after babies…. Sniff sniff (weird man-o-pause moment)….
Luckily I was on the way to an appointment with my therapist, so I had someone to talk to about it, and I couldn’t go to a bar and get involved in some situation that might end up as a bad movie, think Knocked up or Junior… Also luckily a roadside junk pile I spotted on my way out an hour and a half before, was still there on the way home… Also luckily the Roger Lecal 1969 “LIPSTICK” mirror I found in the pile was a fiberglass original (not a plastic copy) and completely intact…
