The other day, my very good friends Mr and Mrs G announced that they were expecting a baby. This was wonderful news; after two years of trying and failing, they had managed it. I was chuffed to bits for them.
One of Mrs G’s mates, Miss A, wasn’t so happy though. Tongue firmly in cheek, she moaned that Mrs G was the last of her single mates to procreate and the only one she could have a conversation with that didn’t revolve around breast-feeding or Calpol.
I know she was joking but Miss A had a point; people do inevitably change when they have kids – it’d be weird if they didn’t. When I see my babied-up mates, we always end up taking about their offspring, no matter how hard they try to steer the subject away or promise themselves that they won’t become one of ‘those mothers’.
The other day, I got a text from my last single girlfriend announcing her pregnancy. This was completely out of the blue; I thought she was in my childless-and-lovin’-it crew. Evidently not. Of course, I sent her a long, congratulatory text but it made me realise how Miss A must have felt; that sensible, fun, relevant conversation is fading to be replaced by news of nappy rash and teething rings.
Better make the most of her while I can.