Apologies if this is a re-post- I think I tried to send the wrong page last
time...
First time father
Just before Janice had the kid
she got very salty.
She'd bask on the bed
like one of those bull sealions
collecting their harems
on David Attenborough,
and she'd give me the wide eye.
I'd start to sweat cobs
and I couldn't get it up.
I told her it was because
I was worried about crushing the baby,
but it wasn't so much that -
or the swollen slope of her,
with a roadmap of Manchester
all done in purple veins -
it was the thought of the little sod
sticking out his hand and grabbing
hold of my dick. I thought
of the ambulance sirening us
to the General, all three of us
locked together. We'd land up
on the front page of The Echo,
for all the lads to laugh at.
As it turned out,
Janice had a little girl.
When I first saw her
she was the colour of one
of those pink sugar mice
in the posh Belgian chocolate shop,
I have to check on her every morning
to see she's all right
and that I didn't dream her.
grasshopper
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