Today[1]
was a good day. Today I found out that I have three mature follicles, I’m
ovulating on my own and I should proceed to can I say have sex here?
Is the nurse listening? make a baby! Wow. This is like, really happening.
So obviously, because I am still a million steps removed from having
said imaginary, as-yet-still-not-conceived-or-birthed baby, I decided it was high
time to start deciding on the kind of crib I fancy for my little (totally
imaginary) tyke. And because I also TOTALLY have 1500 dollars to spare, the
interwebs did not deny me my self-indulgent ogling. Oh no. The interwebs took
my broken, battered, infertile-until-now hand and said here. Here you are,
vulnerable-one-who-wants-to-look-at-pretty-things-she-does-not-need-and-cannot-afford.
Here is a disturbingly vast selection of jaw-droppingly expensive, Dutch
modern, fairly traded, sustainably harvested, bamboo cribs that turn into a
toddler bed and then into a window seat and then, when your child turns
eighteen, a space ship, a college fund an, okay fine I don’t
really know where I’m going with this but it’s probably something really cool,
thing. So yeah. I totally want NEED one of those.
And now - because otherwise the title of this post would
be false advertising - here is Aaron Carter (who is basically an infant because
that's what you are when you have a stuffed Pumbaa on your "safari
bed"), wearing an amazing Tupac t-shirt and showing off his “shag carpet”
walls. Please. Hold the applause.
[1] And if you’re just tuning in, by today, I
actually mean about a week ago. Breathlessly trying to catch up to real time. I
feel like Marty McFly.
