Baby Baby. BUT NOT I!

Yesterday I found out that one of my good friends is with Child. This is wonderful news that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. She is recently married and already has one beautiful little girl; this second little bub will complete their set.

But it got me thinking. What about Justin and myself? I’m but a mere young lady of 22 and I’m really not ready to take our relationship to that level. It’s not that we don’t see a long future together. It’s more that we’re a pair of wild cats who really shouldn’t be having kittens for fear of ruining the local natural habitat. The thought of a mini me scares the hell out of me. I can barely look after myself, let-alone a child. However it’s all well and good me making a decision not to have kids now but what about my other half? He’s 31, what happens if he wants babies soon?

When I got home he was playing his guitar and I told him the good news about my friend. His reaction, “Cool.”
Okay, not quite what I was expecting but hey, he’s in the music zone so I’ll allow it. He doesn’t much respond when he’s playing guitar. He tends to just nod and smile a lot (at the music, not at me.) So I continued with my ramblings. He’s very easy to talk too when he’s only half listening.
“You don’t want one either do you? I’m not ready for that.”
He stopped playing. HE STOPPED PLAYING. He only stops playing when he has something of importance or interest to add to the one sided conversation. “HELL NO! I don’t want kids till I’m at least 40! Maybe older! I’ll have kids when I’m a rock star and can afford a full time nanny. She can wear short skirts. It’ll be great.” He then smiled his ‘music smile’ and went back playing and nodding his head.
Okay, not the reaction I was expecting from a man who is in his 30s. Sure I want to wait but I don’t want to wait that long.
“When you’re 40, I’ll be 31! I’ll be old!”
Once again he stopped playing and I realised what I had just said.
“Oh cheers, Miss. Barely-legal-22. What the hell am I then?”
(I take my shovel and I dig, dig, dig, I dig, dig, dig. I dig, dig, dig.)

”I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I want have babies around the 28 mark.”
“How old will I be then?” By this point he’d put the guitar down completely. We were in full conversation mode. Oh-O SPAGHETTI-O’S! I had to answer, 28? Quick, how old would he be?
At this point we both consulted our fingers and I beat him to the answer, “You’ll be 37ish.”
“37! That’s just around the corner!”
“No it’s not! It’s over 6 years away.”
“Yeah, 6 years! That’s only 2 Rugby World Cups Away!”
Que awkward silence (He takes his shovel and he dig, dig, digs. He dig, dig, digs. He dig, dig, digs.)
I asked him, “You measure your life in Rugby World Cups?”

He picked up his guitar and started strumming the Lullaby he wrote for me back when I was Miss. Barely-Legal-19. He smiled that ‘music smile’ and mused, “And seeing as South Africa was banned for all those years, that makes me younger than you.”
If only my life line was that simple…