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Friday, April 28, 2006

Preggy Conversations

I spoke with my good friend Marge Simpson over the phone a few days ago. Without skipping a beat, she blurted out, “I am pregnant.”

“What? Are you kidding me? I always thought you were still a virgin.”

“I’m serious. I’m a few weeks pregnant. Positive.” She didn’t sound alarmed. She seemed excited.

“You mean to say, you’re out of the VSB (virgin since birth) club?”

I think she mentally hit me with a sharp object.

Marge is already in her mid-thirties. I think by the time women reach that age, the maternal instinct sets in: they all want to have babies. I noticed this one time when out of the blue, when she was still date-less, Marge mentioned she wanted to have a dog.

She had her share of indecent proposals before, all of which she wisely turned down.

“You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”

I figured they’d use protection if they didn’t want to have a baby yet.

“Well, yeah.”

“You mean to say, back in December, you were still VSB?

We were like Jerry and Elaine in Seinfeld, we talk about anything, from the colors of pistachios to well, sex. For some reason, our conversations, although frank, were never serious.

“Oh no, we were doing it. It’s just the timing probably. You know, the natural method.”

I understood.

“I see, so that really works. So you won’t be joining me in Bohol in June?”

“Traveling might be too stressful for my delicate condition. And besides I’ll be having my own wedding too, you know. So you have to fly back immediately to attend mine’s.

“No kidding. That fast?”

“Your mom and dad know about this?

“Not yet. I will tell them tomorrow.”

I’m really surprised but quite happy for her. She’s settling down for good.

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