Well, that was really boring.
Nine months in the womb.
Nine months of swimming, feeding and kicking.
Intrusive sonograms, ultrasounds; stetho-bloody-scopes listening in.
Parental ambition gone mad: interminable Bach recordings; everyone reading Lawrence and George Eliot out aloud while I’m trying to sleep! No rest for the yet innocent.
Thank god that’s all over.
Oi, what’s with the scissors?