I was quite brave when I had my second child. I stayed at home until I could bare it no longer. When I got to hospital there were no beds for me, bollocky NHS, 8 cm dilated and no bed!
So there I am contracting in the waiting room, trying to look cool. When who should walk by, the mother of one of my pupils. It turns out she is one of the assistant midwives there.
A quick ‘hello’ would be fine, but no, down she sat next to me, and proceeded to orchestrate a parent teacher consultation.
Do you no what the really stupid thing was, instead of telling her to fuck right off and that I couldn’t give a shit about her window licker of a son, I actually took part in it!
It must have been the hormones!