Gotta See The Babeee!!!

How much fun is that after 4 years TTC? Almost as much fun as sharpening a stick, dipping it into a delicate concoction of arsenic and turps, burning the end of said sharpened, poisoned stick and poking it rapidly into one's eyes, a la poor, misguided Oedipus.

The name of this blog comes from a particularly amusing Seinfeld episode, "The Boyfriend, Part 2". (please don't sue me, Jerry. You're rich and you married a way younger bird who has presented you with 3 fine specimens in rapid succession. Be kind to the Childless Slapper.) The one where the gang's annoyingly smug, married friends have a kid and insist that everyone has to trek to their Hamptons heaven to gaze beatifically on said child. I do believe it's also the famous story arc involving Keith Hernandez and the "Second Spitter Theory", surely one of the funniest sequences in the history of television. One of those ones I'm reciting during the ep, while everyone around me's slowly making the sign of the cuckoo-bird.

Anyhoo, the annoyingly smug married-couple, Carol and Michael insist that Jezza and the gang come over to see their baby. Because everyone loves seeing babies, am I right? Other people's babies, that is. But oddly enough, the gang is not keen. As a bunch of thirty-something singles, it's quite possibly the pleasure equivalent of the abovementioned burnt stick in the proverbial eye. It's just not where they're at. And there's the dichotomy. You can only be bothered seeing other people's babies when you have one of your own, and that's because you have equality. Mummazilla equality.

Funny thing. The older I get, the younger my friends seem to be. There's that inverse relationship thing again, is that physics or something? I figure that by the time I'm 74, I'll be happily dribbling with other people's 2 year-olds, the way I'm headed. Just bib and nappy us up together. This is the end-result of not keeping up with your peers. Meaning that at the Husband's work Xmas do this year, the mothers (all the other women bar me and the young guy's girlfriend) all magically drifted to one side of the deck, while I befriended this cool, early-20s chick and had a few vinos too many. You do have to dodge a few poisonous glares from the mummazillas if you don't want to pander to, oops, play with their little darlings. You know, I like kids and all, hell, I've been teaching them for 13 years, but I don't want to spend my social time looking at Ethan's Spiderman mask. (since when were Aussie boys named Ethan and Seth, anyway?)

What was the point of this blog? Dunno, triggering tomorrow and having first FET next Thursday. I think I just wanted an excuse to reminisce about Seinfeld. Those were the days!