Last week I popped round to one of my friend’s houses to congratulate her on her new baby.
Urgh, I know! There she is; settling down, bringing new life into the world, while here I am, on the verge of a breakdown every time I run out of milk for my crunchy nut.
Mornings aren’t easy.
So, as I tried to push that little voice that was screaming “Don’t hold it, YOU’RE GOING TO DROP IT” to the back of my mind and look completely natural hugging the child, the conversation went as follows:
Me: So, how are you?
Friend: Not great, my stitches have come undone and they can’t re-stitch me back up… so basically I just have to let it heal itself. I feel disgusting.
Me: Woah hang on, what stitches?
Friend: You know… in my girlie bits. Most people get them after they give birth…
Stitches. In my girlie bits.
Sorry, can we just hold the fuck on for a second?!
That’s something films don’t tell you. In the scene where the slightly dishevelled woman scoops her new-born into her arms with glee; not once do you hear the dulcet tones of a Doctor saying, “eyar, pass the needle and cotton Nurse, let’s get this hot mess stitched up”.
So anyway, the conversation, (which will forever act as contraception in my mind) got me thinking about other ‘romantic’ moments in films that don’t really translate into real life situations; specifically the idea of taking a bath with your fella.
What films lead us to believe:
We’ve all seen that scene in Friends; Monica and Chandler, a newly loved-up couple, sip champagne together whilst surrounded by candles, bubbles and rose petals.
Honestly, there are so many potential problems with the execution of this I barely know where to begin.
Number one; baths are not big enough for two people.
I’m only 5ft3 and I spend the majority of my bathing time trying to decide whether to settle for having cold knees or cold boob – so I can only assume that when lads over 6ft take a bath, they sacrifice a leg in order to fit in.
Then, of course, you’ve got to judge the water levels perfectly. I once got a hysterical phone call off my mate asking if I thought she was fat – it turned out that, after attempting to sexily climb in to the water where her fella awaited (girls take note, looking sexy while clambering over slippery surfaces is near impossible), she sat down and every drop of water spilled out onto the floor.
But, for argument’s sake, let’s just say you do manage to contort your bodies around each other to get comfortable – all without setting fire to your hair, cramping up or accidentally kicking him in the balls, what then? Are you meant to clean each other, or just sit there? It’s not like there’s any room to actually do anything!
Oh and finally, I know I’m not the only girl out there who turns the bathwater lovely St. Moriz orange. How the fuck do you disguise that?
Answers on a postcard please, girls.