Apparently it's this, so take heed anyone out there who is with child. You simply walk into a newsagents, pick up a copy of The Sun, turn to page three, but you don't ogle the page three model's breasticles. Oh no, you look at her name. And that is the name you choose for your baby.
I kid you not.
The cherry tree woman was convinced she was having a Gary (I'm guessing it was the 80s). But it turned out to be a girl. And the page three model that day was Sam Fox. I bet her daughter Samantha is oh so chuffed, don't you?
I have zilch boys or girls names this time. But I shall dwell not, it will come to me. And if not, The Sun may have to be my saviour. Ha ha, the woman was so serious I did my best not to smirk.
Smirk I said, not twerk. What IS that all about? I'd feel a right berk if I should decide to twerk, making you all smirk. I have no balance at the moment, dancing is a thing of the past. So is prancing. But not romancing. No I am still all about a bit of romance. Maybe it's me hormones.
You see, the Husband's beard is coming on nicely. Actually, I'd go as far as to say he is looking hot. I MUST try to get a picture but keep forgetting to take a sly one and he is not one for posing.
I have a thing about beards this pregnancy. No, I'm not fancying Brian Blessed or anything yet. And neither do I find Noel Edmonds attractive. But there's something about a hairy chin that is getting me hot under the collar!
|Hormones. Blame me hormones|
When I was pregnant with the Prince, I had a thing for the rapper 50 Cent. I think the Husband was a bit miffed, as 50 Cent was the polar opposite to my beau in every single way (how I love my skinny, pale Yorkshireman). But oh my! When I was preggers last time, that rapper could have taken me to the "candy shop" any flipping time he liked.
Until I gave birth. Then I was over it. I don't even remotely think about Fiddy these days, and I certainly wouldn't dream of looking for him in da club.
But beards? Man, I even look at the H&M model and the older grey beardy model cardboard cutout in TK Maxx and feel the fire in my chubby loins. How sad is that?!?!
Just hope I don't go off the whole hirsute fizzog thing when Junior arrives because I think the Husband will keep the beard regardless of my lust.....or lack of.
On a different note, I was THRILLED when Kerry sent me these two Ladybird books last week that she found in a charity shop in London, as not got them in my vast collection. Oh they are fab! She's a good girl.
Watch this space to hear all about how I moaned and groaned. And that's just the noise I make while trying to get my underwear on every morning so Lord KNOWS the sounds I shall make in labour......