more of the same

Hubby has told me I have to write some more on my blog. I'm not sure whether this is because it gives him more time with exciting Harry Potter, and gets him out of tedious conversations about Meena's pasta sauce, or because he's hoping that the more I write, the more secrets he'll find out next time he logs on.

So, Hubby, when I'm telling you about Meena's pasta sauce, my secret thought is that Colin Firth is licking my toes.

Actually that's not true. I have gone off Colin Firth since his Mr Darcy days (so long ago, now!). Now he always seems to play ageing homosexuals, so I think that little crush of mine is well and truly over.

I could tell you about wailing and chuntering in the medical centre when we had our rabies boosters, or breathless and confusing conversations with other mums about trekking over deshain holidays, or shouting so loudly at Twin 1 at bedtime that now my throat hurts.

But these are things that don't really need to concern you.

What you want is another secret thought, don't you?

Oh alright then.

Today's secret thought is... other people's babies scare me. There, I've said it. I pretty much have baby phobia. In fact, the younger, the scarier, in my opinion. There is a new girl in the Twins' class, and they like her, and she seems to like them, and she also seems very nice (unlike X) but I'm scared of arranging a playdate in case her Mum brings along her two baby brothers, and I will have to pretend to think they are cute and charming, when actually I'll be resisting a desperate urge to run for the hills.

Don't tell anyone because it's distinctly unmaternal and frankly downright wierd, given that I've had three babies of my own.