Dear Friends,
I have learned from facebook that our age bracket appears to be in a big reproductive swing right now. It's Babyville over there, and I'm...coping. People I remember from elementary school are now very specifically fat. And so far you all, my inner circle, haven't caught the bug yet. Way to go! Proud of you.
I know, however, that it's only a matter of time. You'll catch Baby Fever and want all that, and then I'll have to go to (ugh) baby showers and buy cutesy little outfits so tiny I'll be tempted to check if Barbie has heels to match. I accept that. My friends will be parents and I'll freak out but learn to live with it, as I did when you all started to get married.
But listen up. I'm saying this now and I don't want to have to repeat myself later because even this brief blog post is making me uncomfortable. It's hugely important that you understand this now:
I don't care how joyous the little bundle growing inside you is, or what a huge occasion this is for you. If you post ultrasound pictures on facebook, I hereby reserve the right to a.) mock you for the rest of time, including any haunting I decide to do posthumously, and b.) WILL tell your children that they were prenatally on facebook, once they're old enough to be sufficiently embarrassed and angsty. It's WEIRD, guys. Really weird.
Just thought you ought to know.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
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