This morning me and Rose ventured out in the freeeeeeezing cold to the nearest cafe where Rose had a hot chocolate and I had coffee to help me keep my eyes open after 4 am and 6.30 am wakeup calls from Sylvia. On the way we picked up a trashy magazine each – mine was Now or Then or some such shit, and Rose’s was ‘Pink’. As you would expect from a publication with this title it was entirely about princesses, kittens, puppies, ponies, mermaids and totally pukeworthy.
We both postitioned our magazines next to our cups and pored over the pages, Rose dismembering the tacky plastic toys on the cover of ‘Pink’ and me trying to involve her in the fashion disasters in Now (me: “That is a harsh colour on Angelina Jolie and the cut makes her look rather matronly. What do you think?’ Rose: ” ‘s’green.” In this way I hope to create a mini-me to share a guilty interest in glossy weeklies. Can’t wait til she also wants to read mags about celebrity botox diets and the like. She already likes lipstick, she raids my handbag for the lipsalve and applies it to the lower part of her nose. Despite this I still use it on my lips.
In the afternoon I went to the hospital to have a check on the polyps which were alleged to be the possible cause of bleeding during my pregnancy, and the devious little fuckers have gone. The doctor assured me they weren’t there because she had ‘had a good poke around’ which I didn’t really want to know. I am slightly disappointed as deep down I was hoping they would be removed and presented to me so I could dry them and use them as earrings in the spirit of Bornean head hunters displaying the shrunken heads of their enemies as doorknobs and the like.