The district nurse came today but I was prepared. The house was clean as were the babies. I wanted no chance of clandestine phone calls to social services of a ‘mother not coping’ nature.
She took lots of notes and weighed the babies and we then spent a rather lovely ten minutes discussing the consistency of their poo. The little girl obliged by actually pooing in front of us so we could coo over her sample. I was so thrilled with her cleverness that what stopped me from dipping my fingers into it I do not know - perhaps somewhere deep in my mind it occurred to me that if I actually did that in front of a real live sane person I would soon find myself carried off by white-coated heavily built Bulgarian psychiatric aides so I kept my fingers to myself. I then noticed the living room rug upon which was seated said nurse. It was covered in dog hairs. Why hadn’t I hoovered the rug? What was I thinking? Was I mad? I’m sure somewhere in some book it says that dog hairs can kill newborn babies.
But she made no comment and we parted with smiles and many congratulations on the two lovely lumps I had produced. Only as she was walking away and I madly waving goodbye did I realise that I was still wearing my pyjama top and had neglected to put on a bra. I can only assume that she must be used to visiting new mothers who think they are managing just perfectly well but really are quite bonkers.
No comments:
Post a Comment