Everyone at my work seems to have either given birth or been responsible for someone else giving birth in the last few months. Ok...not everyone, but lots...I'm not hiding anything in my wardrobe...soooo anyway, ahem...This influx of sprolets means that we have lots of new parents proudly bringing in their loin fruits to show off. I am horribly maternal (something I keep well under wraps as else I'd try to mother wet socks and things) although I'm pretty convinced that anyone who would really quite encourage their child to wear fancy dress everyday (yes, that's right, I'm one of those people who would have the child always dressed as a fairy/pumpkin/spiderman/skeleton/Dracula/peter pan/...trust me this could be a long list...) probably shouldn't be allowed real children.
Anyway, Yesterday was a visit day...A good colleague brought in her little girl. Very cute and snuggly she was so I managed to grab a baby squish before she went home (I did warn you.)
Unfortunately said baby decided that it was lunchtime and that possibly my "boys" looked like they held a bit more lunch than her Mums and I ended up with a 3 month old trying to latch on to my shirt! baby drool all over!
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*Checks in TB's wardrobe for 'suspicious' baskets......*
And you wondered why I put a lock on my wardrobe door...
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