K___ was working at London Open House this last weekend - where London's notable buildings are opened to the general public. It's a nice bit of extra cash for showing a few people about the place where you work.
I stayed at home and did a few chores, played my bass and generally did everything I could to avoid writing some much needed blog entries. My apologies, dear diary. Or 'dear blog'. Whatever. In the afternoon, I decided to visit my folks. Last time we went to see them, I had suggested to K___ that we take some baby clothes for my parents to coo over. K___ also mentioned that it would be a bit dumb as it would give away the sex. Oh yeah.
However, she wasn't around to stop me, so how could I possibly resist..? Exactly! So, I found the most gender-neutral items I could - a set of dungerees, a number of jumpers and a winter-suit thing complete with ears on top of hood. How could my parents fail to be won over? All I had to do was remember to call the baby 'it' not 'her'. Synch.
As I arrived, my father was mucking about in the back of his car, so I ended up going through the garage and into the backgarden where my mother was relaxing with a cup of coffee. 'What's in the bag?' she asked almost immediately. It was a pink plastic bag. I just picked the first one out of the bag drawer. 'Nothing,' quoth I. Eventually, my dad finished whatever it was he was buggering about with and joined us.
'I thought you might like to see these...' I said mysteriously. My parents looked at me expectantly. I pulled a pair of 0-3 months blue denim dungerees. Immediately they emerged from the bag my mother duly went doe-eyed. I think she may be looking forward to this baby somehow.
'But,' she said, 'This is blue, a boy's colour.'
'No, I told you, I've only brought completely gender neutral things. Just because that's blue doesn't prove a thing either way.'
'Oh,' she said.
I started to pull the other items out for them to look out and they were appropriately impressed. I can't remember who they mistook for a breast-embroidered Winnie the Pooh, unfortunately, but it doesn't matter much, I suppose. They were impressed and excited and, with the conversation moving off onto different subjects, I had managed to keep the sex a secret.
Phew!
I stayed at home and did a few chores, played my bass and generally did everything I could to avoid writing some much needed blog entries. My apologies, dear diary. Or 'dear blog'. Whatever. In the afternoon, I decided to visit my folks. Last time we went to see them, I had suggested to K___ that we take some baby clothes for my parents to coo over. K___ also mentioned that it would be a bit dumb as it would give away the sex. Oh yeah.
However, she wasn't around to stop me, so how could I possibly resist..? Exactly! So, I found the most gender-neutral items I could - a set of dungerees, a number of jumpers and a winter-suit thing complete with ears on top of hood. How could my parents fail to be won over? All I had to do was remember to call the baby 'it' not 'her'. Synch.
As I arrived, my father was mucking about in the back of his car, so I ended up going through the garage and into the backgarden where my mother was relaxing with a cup of coffee. 'What's in the bag?' she asked almost immediately. It was a pink plastic bag. I just picked the first one out of the bag drawer. 'Nothing,' quoth I. Eventually, my dad finished whatever it was he was buggering about with and joined us.
'I thought you might like to see these...' I said mysteriously. My parents looked at me expectantly. I pulled a pair of 0-3 months blue denim dungerees. Immediately they emerged from the bag my mother duly went doe-eyed. I think she may be looking forward to this baby somehow.
'But,' she said, 'This is blue, a boy's colour.'
'No, I told you, I've only brought completely gender neutral things. Just because that's blue doesn't prove a thing either way.'
'Oh,' she said.
I started to pull the other items out for them to look out and they were appropriately impressed. I can't remember who they mistook for a breast-embroidered Winnie the Pooh, unfortunately, but it doesn't matter much, I suppose. They were impressed and excited and, with the conversation moving off onto different subjects, I had managed to keep the sex a secret.
Phew!
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