The Asset
I suppose an account of what’s going on in The Deadly House of Jelly would be in order.
Well, the weather’s been happening. Lots of rain. Spots of sunshine. Wind, that’s fairly common.
So what else?
Right.
Yes.
Let me see.
Oh yes: hey!
Guess what?
I’m pregnant.
In fact, this is the culmination of a long journey. Over the years, it gradually became clear Andrew and I were unable to have children without medical assistance. We were aware that many couples undergo years of fruitless IVF treatment and were prepared for failure – in fact, expected it – yet completely ill-equipped for some degree of success. Although luckier than many, we have experienced some heartbreaking lows along the way.
But I am delighted to report that, at the 13 week scan last week, ‘The Asset’ (working title) appears to be cookin nicely. He’s also an unbelievably handsome foetus. The radiologist actually said, “WOW. That’s possibly the best-looking foetus I have ever seen”.
Ok I admit it: he didn’t. Evidently an oversight or professional negligence.
When we first saw The Asset, he was stretched out full-length, completely laid back, legs crossed, arms behind the head, all “Man, this place is cool,” and wondering how to score some contraband. So there’s no doubt Andrew’s his dad. We’re not sure who the mother is yet – although since he’s so photogenic, there have to be some of my genes in the mix.
Even though The Asset is only about 8cm long, he has little feet! And hands! And fingers! It’s just so reassuring knowing he’ll be able to pick his own nose.
I’m thinking of getting a t-shirt with the slogan:
Crotchfruit gestating
or:
The Asset (with helpful arrow)
or my favourite, as suggested by MarkJ:
Just fucking fat, all right?
Despite plenty of evidence to the contrary, I’m secretly convinced I’m the only person on the planet who ever got sprogged. By the way, if you ever catch me with my hand on my belly looking smug, you have my full permission – no, in fact, I ORDER you – to give me a sound kick up the cervix.
Anyway, that’s probably quite enough about spawning.
In other news: we’re moving house at the end of September.
Used bobcats
For the last couple of months, Deadlyjelly’s stats has averaged around 70 visits per day. I’m not sure why traffic hasn’t increased exponentially since my blog’s inception. Perhaps it’s because I don’t trawl the Internet making comments on other peoples’ websites. Maybe I need to increase the application of swearwords, or include more videos of me taking my clothes off.
Looking on the bright side: had my hits increased exponentially, the Internet would probably have blown up. So from that perspective, it’s a good thing.
A couple of days ago, the post Tractors Weekly: poor substitute attracted the following post:-
Now, I am a total sucker for flattery no matter how deficient of substance, but I was surprised that particular post had moved someone to express themselves. It poked some fun at my mother-in-law, which – although always entertaining although probably more for me than anyone else – is a cheap shot. Really, outside that highlight, the padding was relatively lacklustre. I didn’t feel it was my best effort.
At the same time, there’s no accounting for taste – or, for that matter, freakishness – so I spent considerable time crafting a response that was warm but not gushing, gracious without sounding needy, and grateful whilst editing out hints of desperation.
It was only after I responded that I looked at the poster’s username: ‘used_bobcats’.
Unusual, I thought.
Imaginative?
Maybe.
Then I followed the link and, er, it was a website selling – what d’you know? -used bobcats.
My official reason for deleting both comments is not my ingenuous response, but because Used Bobcats is not getting any referrals from me so there
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