I'm 18 years old for crying out loud I don't want a baby. So why every time someone pushes a pram past me with a tiny, screwed-up-faced newborn do I start wishing it was mine?
I used to banish these thoughts simply by thinking of dirty nappies and sleepless nights but it doesn't work anymore. I want a sprog.
ARRRRGGGHHHH! NO I DON'T!!!!
I want to go to university and have some fun before 'lumbering myself', as my parents would put it, with a baby, and I know that I can't look after one right now. Bloody hell I only just started doing my own washing!!! But every time I see those gorgeous, chubby, snoozing, sobbing wonderful little bundles being carried down the street I just want one dammit.
Got to find a way to stop thinking like this!
Don't tell The Bloke Indoors whatever you do, he won't come near me with a barge pole.