Oh for pete's sake. I've got my period. A full-blown, bright red, flowing, I am fertile too bad you didn't inseminate me a few weeks ago period.
My mom had a friend, acquaintance really, who got pregnant at age 52--back in the Dark Ages, before artificial insemination and test-tube babies and surrogacy and the rest of our Brave New World. Mom always talks about this pregnancy in a tone of horror. I think it'd be kinda cool, really. Shoot, I like babies and little kids and now I'd actually have some sense of what I was doing. And by the time said baby became a horrid teenager, like the one clumping through the house right now, well, I wouldn't really notice much, would I? I'd just shake my head, the one with no hair left, and wave my arms, the ones with the extendable skin, and hobble back to the sofa to watch another episode of Doctor Who.
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