My BFF is the best BFF in the whole wide world. She understands everything that comes out of my mouth before I say it - and I know everyone says that about their BFF, but if you heard some of the things that come out of my mouth, you would understand how extrodinary it really is. And she listens to me complain...sometimes for hours on end. (Literally.) And she's the reason I finally broke it off with Latest Ex-boyfriend. And she sticks up for me, even to my formidible mother. (Not an easy thing to do.) And she's so funny, sometimes I can't even stand it!
And she's pregnant.
Now, whilst she may not appreciate me broadcasting this to the whole wide world, I'm pretty sure she's figured I'd broadcast it here eventually. So why not sooner than later, eh?
But to the point: today, for whatever reason, it really hit me. "Oh my greek goddess. BFF is pregnant." It was then I realized that soon, very soon, our ridiculously long phone conversations probably won't be as frequent, and our hours of communal TV watching will probably have to be put on hold, and while she's worried about boiling nipples (not hers) and getting a full night's sleep, I'll be worrying about whether or not my shoes from last year could pass for this season's and how many times I should go out with some guy before I dump him (or say I'm gonna dump him and then wimp out). HOLY CRAP! SHE'S HAVING A BABY!!
I'm totally having oldest child syndrome all over again!!! I'm having flashbacks to 1984. How can BFF take care of me when she's having another human who actually has a good excuse to be a helpless heap of bone and flesh???!!
Now, I realize that these fears are probably completely irrational, but the last time I can remember having any sort of rational thought was in 1983. Right before that little creep who stole my spotlight was born, known affectionately to my parents as "Son."
Dearst BFF, once you have your tiny bundle of joy, (that I plan on totally corrupting once he/she reaches 1.5 years of age) please promise me that you won't forget my co-dependency on you. Please? Please?!! As long as I have that reassurance, I think I'll be able to handle not being your only child anymore.
All my neurotic, needy love,
Queen, III
2 comments:
I hope you realize that you're going to be responsible for exactly one third of those nipples and one third of those sleepless nights. Who do you think I am? My mother? As disgusting as Ms. Clinton is, I think I'll adopt the whole "village to raise a child" thing while it's convenient for me.
*heavy sigh of relief* BFF, you're the best. Thank you, thank you for not being your mother. I'll happily be responsible of one third of everything! As long as I get to pretend to be the martyr. Oh what fun it will all be!!! And maybe we can pawn your responsibility of giving me guy advice to the infant...because heaven knows, I hardly ever listen to you!
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