This morning I woke up to 'She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy' coming from my alarm. This song would have really disturbed me if I weren't already in a weird frame of mind from the incredibly scary dream I had just been having: I was pregnant. Not only was I pregnant, but I was obviously still single, in the hospital about to have a baby, there was a hot doctor (actually I think he was just a nurse) telling me it was all good and holding my hand. I was trying to figure out, once the pills they gave me to induce the labor worked, what I was going to name this girl. This is even more frightening because if this dream ever comes true (aside from the being single and preggers part) I want a boy. Anyhow, right before Kenny Chesney serenaded me back to reality, I was throwing around names like Anna and Hannah. Clearly, Banana was next.
The point of this story, and possible reason behind the baby dream, is that yesterday, I realized I've reached a certain point in my life. A point that can best be summed up as follows: You know those people who bring BABIES into BARS? We're at the age where those people are actually our friends.
Yesterday I went to a brunch party where two people brought their babies. It was all fine, they were friends of friends - my closest friends have still not been knocked up, at least not that I know of. The babies didn't cry, it wasn't exactly Saturday night and this was no dive bar. But still, it's just...a new phase of life.
A few years ago I was hanging out with adults who got so wasted they'd fall down and wet themselves. Now, I'm hanging out with infants who can barely crawl and also wet themselves. At least the babies aren't hitting on me and trying to drive home?
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