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Inspiration Comes From The Darnedest Places

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babyme_closeup

I’m in love.

That’s right. In love.

Although in the spirit of honesty and complete truthfulness, please note that this “in love” situation is not at all romantic.

I have not yet found Prince Charming. Nor have I found a rugged cowboy to ride off into the sunset with. My plus one? Currently non-existent.

Not that I’m actually looking or doing anything productive to remedy the situation. I mean, I guess I really should be, but right now I’m working on a much more important project.

Me…

Myself…

and I…

Numero uno if you will…

But back to the whole “in love” issue before I digress into a long-ass diatribe on how that whole “You Complete Me” mentality is a vicious lie perpetrated by “The Hollywood Powers That Be” meant to subjugate women into settling into unfulfilling relationships harmful to their emotional and spiritual well-beings…okay, okay I’ll stop now.

*ahem* 

Back to the whole “in love” issue…

I am “in love” because I am surrounded by babies. Not mine, of course. Everyone else’s. I get to play and coo and spoil little babies for hours and hours and then when I get bored, hand them back to their mommies and daddies with no lingering responsibilities other than to plan my meals for the week and schedule movie and shopping dates with my other child-free friends.

It’s great, this whole worrying for no one but yerself kinda life…

And yes I know I spelled that word wrong. I did it on purpose — it’s currently my thing. (It’s hard to explain. I just started pronouncing it like that a few days ago and now I can’t seem to stop.)

So, back to the reason I’m seeing hearts and butterflies everywhere…

Most of my friends have been giving birth to beautiful little girl babies left and right for a few months now, to the point where I can now tell you (with an absolute certainty that is cosmically reinforced with every single fiber of my being) that a violent and earth-shattering war will break out in the Spring of 2030…

Why Spring of 2030? Why not Fall of 2017 or Summer of 2022?

It’s because this is when all those beautiful little girls will grow up and turn 17 to 18 years of age…

They will be High School Seniors.

This period of time is also commonly referred to as Prom Season.

In 18 years it will be referred to as Senior Prom ’30 to be exact.

During this time there will also be a significant shortage of available boys (at least among my circle of friends) for teenage girls to take as their dates…

You know, since everyone around me keeps insisting on birthing cute little girl babies. Not that I’m complaining or anything like that…

It will be loud…

Hairs will fly…

Tears will flow…

Prom dresses might even be burned in sorrow…

Flower shops will go out of business due to the lack of corsage orders…

It will be bitch-slappingly-fantastic-Dynasty-style!

And as someone who is currently (and thankfully due to this predicament) child-free, I have a non-participatory-front-row seat to the whole shebang!

I’m still waiting for at least one of my friends to name their child Alexis to make this situation Oh So Very Complete, but no one seems to want to indulge me on this matter.

I just don’t understand the dang hold up. Alexis is a lovely name.

I’m already thinking of organizing some sort of system to monetize the whole thing. Just think of the potential revenue this situation could generate. Reality shows! Pay-per-view! Online betting! Corporate sponsorships!

Does that make me evil? I hope not. I prefer to think of myself as someone who is innovative with a great spirit for entrepreneurship and a knack for forecasting opportunities for substantial financial gain.

Like Henry Ford…or Sir Richard Branson…or Donald Trump (?)

At least that’s what the voices in my head are currently telling me.

Isn’t it amazing what can bring on a surge of brilliance? And by brilliance, I mean the kind that only sounds good in your head. Practicality and good taste not required.

Thankfully, I do have a few more years to work out the kinks before I set my brilliant income-generating plan into motion. In the meantime, for all of you out there planning on having babies this year, please keep giving birth to more little girl babies. I might want to repeat my future financial windfall in the Spring of 2031.

Besides, seeing all the cute-yet-abnormally-giant-pink-bows wrapped around their itty-bitty heads just make my day!

Mucho love and laughter,

City Girl to Country Girl

 

PS: In order to preserve their internet privacy (something I take very seriously) at least until they’re old enough (and dumb enough) to start sending inappropriate pictures of themselves in their skivvies on Twitter or Facebook like most teenagers seem to do these days, I have opted to refrain from putting up pictures of my friend’s baby girls and put up a picture of little ole me instead. Unless, of course, someone out there WANTS to have a picture of their little baby girl up on my blog, then by all means feel free to contact me anytime. 
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