Karen has an appointment with the doctor this afternoon, so we have to hope that he doesn’t say “Pregnant? No you’re not!” The odds of this occurring are so small as to be non-existent.
I’m currently very worried by faeces. I’m finding the whole nappy-changing thing to be incredibly offputting at the moment. I’m sure that it’s one of those things that you just deal with, and this post at dooce.com certainly gives the impression that it’s not so traumatising that one can not laugh about it, afterwards at least. So I’m taking some comfort in the fact that I’ll be able to deal with it on a turd-by-turd basis.
Karen’s behaviour has changed substantially since the test, partly due to the psychological effect (I am pregnant, therefore I must be permanently tired) and partly to protect the offspring. I think that I shall soon be looking for a new squash partner, or trying to find some other way of getting some exercise while she waddles around the place.
Last night we discussed how the grandparents will be referred to. My mother has always referred to her mother as “granny”, at least as long as I’ve been in existence. I’m quite looking forward to inflicting the same treatment upon her. I’m going to start as soon as possible, so that I can get into the habit. There is much potential for amusement here.