I gave my dearly beloved a reprieve and delayed posting this because of the dreaded Man Cold, but I think the time has come to Name and Shame!!
My sperm donor husband enjoys puffing on the dreaded cancer sticks … yes, dear readers, he’s a nicotine fiend … a smoker.
I keep telling him that his little swimmers are coughing and wheezing their way towards my ovaries. But is he concerned? Not at all. After all we have medical proof that his little guys are fine. There are millions of healthy little buggers swimming merrily in his gene pool; it is only my lazy-arse ovaries that are refusing to play ball. A nicotine sucker he may be, but he ain’t no sucker, and would never say this out loud. He wouldn’t dare.
I don’t let him smoke in the house. The good ol’ NHS did not spend thousands of pounds oxygenating Offspring the First’s lungs only to allow Daddy dearest to vapourize them. My human chimney will stand outside in the freezing cold and pouring rain sucking on a teeth stainer and then he’ll wonder why he has the flue (geddit?? Oh, I crack myself up).
Of course, dear hubby is really proud of his super sperms, and as he stands outisde doing a remarkable representation of Puff the Magic Dragon, I can practically see him thinking “I am man. I am virile.” And I swear he pictures himself like this
whilst all I keep picturing is this
and imagining Offspring the Second emerging like this
or that he’ll end up like the two year old Indonesian kid with a forty a day habit
This clip is approximately two years old, and little Ardi, at the ripe old age of four has kicked the habit. I think he was bribed … probably with chocolate or booze.
Well, I don’t think it’s fair that hubby has a guilty pleasure when all mine have been taken away by the Vice Squad and the MHRA (British version of the FDA). Since we’ve embarked on this massive bird hunting expedition, fun has been removed from my dictionary.
- I haven’t eaten cake in … I don’t know how long
- Chocolate no longer forms part of my major food groups
- Caffeine. No sir, you won’t find any of that contraband in here
- There’s more alcohol at an AA meeting that at my house. Except of course when I get my period when I fall off the wagon is spectacular fashion. It’s okay though, I’m usually too drunk to notice or feel the bump on the head.
I am practically a nun, except for the whole chastity thing … and of course, I’m not the one with the habit.
I am now on a mission to get baby daddy to quit. For one thing, every single time he lights up one of those lung busters all I see is a tiny accusatory tobacco stained finger pointing and me and chanting “ner ner ner ner ner.” And secondly I don’t want to risk our friendly stork getting lost in a haze of smoke.
So bloggers of the world unit and show your support to Operation Save our Swimmers by liking and/or commenting on this post.
Offspring the Second needs you!!