Will it be Hertfordshire? Will it be Cambridgeshire? Who knows! How thrilling! Except it’s not thrilling in the slightest – it’s scary. Perhaps it also has something to do with the fact that I am a kind of holiday-let refugee, moving from one place to the next with no fixed abode, wondering which area of the country I’ll be in when the roulette wheel stops turning and the baby makes an appearance. They’re just all normal and boob-like, sat there, wondering what all of the fuss is about.
I do have boobs – ticked those off last week’s list – but they don’t look ready at all. Perhaps something to do with the fact that – really – baby could come at any time, yet I have no clothes for him/her, no nappies, no crib, no pram. I’m overwhelmed with a sense of what I can only call unreadiness. I am having a little freak-out, this week, if truth be known.
