Beloved and I went to a party last night. The drinks were flowing but I was sticking to my ginger beer. Anyone who knows me well knows that I'm not especially fond of the plonk. I've never liked the taste and anybody who knows me REALLY well knows what happens if I even attempt to sniff the stuff. Half a glass of water with a packet of wine gums and I'm under the table. Beloved on the other hand, doesn't have a problem with the occasional (large) tipple so we're well matched with me being the designated driver and him being the...er...polite one who drinks everything that's on offer.
So our hosts offered me a frozen, slushy type thingee called a mackerie or a duckarita or something (heck, what do I know about this stuff?). They were generous people and thought I was just being polite when I declined so eventually Beloved had to explain that I "CAN'T drink.
"Great!" I hissed at him, under my breath, through gritted teeth "Now they think I'm an alcoholic!" Beloved found this amusing.
I was telling Zeeb about this tonight and she added another thought to the mix:
ME: "Now everyone there will think I'm an alcoholic"
Zeeb: "Or pregnant"
Me: *stunned silence* "Ummm...I'm...
Zeeb: "If you were pregnant at your age you could write to a woman's magazine and get paid for the story"
Zeeb: "What about those people who don't know they're even pregnant until they go to take a dump?"
Me: "That would be pretty cool!"
Zeeb: "Why, because you end up with a baby instead of a poo?"
|Not really anything to do with what I'm writing about but when I stumbled on this pic just now it made me laugh out loud.|
The discussion deteriorated a little from there (as if it hadn't already) and I started thinking about baby names.
If I gave birth to a girl on the loo I could name her "Louise" (get it? LOO-WEES! Huh? Get it??)
Zeeb asked what I'd call a boy born on the bog: "Lewis" (as in LOO-WHIZZ) or PEEter.
Oh, I am on a roll tonight. A TOILET ROLL that is! :-p