I was going to bang on about the Bioethics Council recommending that parents get the right to choose the sex of their unborn babies. And I sort of still will, but it will be the abbreviated version as I've got another morning talk up my sleeve.
I think choosing the sex of your unborn child is just creepy. The Bioethic's Council justify it by saying that sex selection would be for social reasons of 'family balancing.' Excuse me while I gak in the nearest pot plant, but how designery, perfect is that? Next it will be 'I want a curly brown haired, green eyed, musical, rocket scientist' despite the fact that the rest of the family are blond haired, blue eyed, as musical as banana cake and all possess IQs in single figures.
Or 'We were really going for the Spanish look, you know something a little more exotic?' I'm sorry, but if you want an exotic looking child, go shag a Spaniard.
And then it's only a small jump before the circus families are ordering four armed dwarfs because it would be good for business.
I was discussing this with my friend, the mother-of-four-boys-five-years-and-under. Now she would have dearly loved a girl somewhere along the way. She was particularly sure number three and four were going to be boys. But despite this, her view is that you end up with what you can cope with. And I reckon she is right. Out of all the people I know, her and her husband would be the people I would vote for having to raise four boys. They don't sweat the small stuff.
The other part of my morning talk I am quite excited about. When I bought my house last year it didn't take me long at all to get stuff on the wall. I hauled my-friend-the-antiques-dealer in and he kindly hung nearly all of my pictures for me (in between muttering things like, 'Why do you have to having fucking three of everything?')
He also pointed out that pretty much all of my wall space has been pretty well taken up. There's not a lot of real estate left for the picture market in my house these days. Except for the dunny. I had been unsure what to do with it. And until yesterday was stark white. I had thought of plastering it in maps of countries I have visited, and when I went into the map shop yesterday I discovered that the maps they had were so huge, that I would only manage to get three countries on the walls.
Then I came up with another idea, I would turn my loo into my travel scrap book. I have to confess I've slaughtered an atlas in the decoration of the dunny, but only the countries I've been to. Soon I'm going to stick up labels of which photos belong to which country.
Let me introduce you to my loo.
It's still work in progress, there's a whole lot of photos to go yet and it's possibly only interesting to me, but it was one hell of an entertaining way to spend a cold Saturday afternoon.
I suppose this post brings new meaning to 'toilet traffic.'