Rosey strikes again!

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One of our group of friends is pregnant. In fact she’s expecting her little girl in four weeks time. She’ll be called Poppy!

We were sitting around a table in the pub listening to Stacey. The girls seemed fascinated by her stories of morning sickness and piles. We guys decided to talk football in an effort to avoid hearing the gruesome details of late pregnancy.


Rosey wasn’t sure what to make of it. She adopted a slightly sour expression, and physically recoiled when listening to detailed accounts of unpleasant discharges and flatulence.

Conversation then turned to the birth process. Stacey had been there before but none of the other ladies had. The girl- talk was punctuated by ‘eeoos’ and ‘yucks’. Every now and again Rosey squeaked! The bloke’s conversation changed to rugby!

Stacey told them that a friend of hers didn’t believe that the umbilical cord was sealed with a clamp after severing. She thought it was tied in a knot. If the knot was too loose, it caused a sticky-out belly button! They fell about with laughter – except Rosey looked confused. ‘But they do tie it, don’t they?’ she asked.

This was too good an opportunity to miss! I said to her ‘Of course it is Rosey. Before she ties it the nurse pinches the end of the cord, and if the baby is a little chubby with big round cheeks, she releases a little air like letting down a balloon. A good nurse can even play a tune!’

Then the familiar chain of thought started.

‘Really? – I thought I was right. Why are you all smiling? Are you teasing me again? You are you bastards!’

Then she collapsed in fits of giggles and I knew I was forgiven!

It’s at times like this that Rosey returns one of her old habits! Smoking. She used to get through 20 a day, but she decided to cut right down. It wasn’t the dire warnings of premature death that caused her to re-evaluate her habit. Nor the cost, nor even the fact that since the smoking ban she needed to stand out in the street when she needed a fix of nicotine. No, she cut down when one of us told her that her fingers and her fringe would turn yellow if she continued.

While she stood outside in a cloud of smoke, we recalled the time before the ban when she stubbed a cigarette out in what she assumed was a dish of potpourri crystals left on the bar for that purpose. A second or two later she turned crimson when she saw someone dipping their fingers in the dish and placing some of the stuff in their mouth. It was then she realised that it wasn’t a fragrant ash tray after all – it was a dish of dried fruits placed there for the enjoyment of the drinkers!

Only Rosey could do that!
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