Ok, people. Let’s pull it together now. Stop having all your baby-making sex in November. Why? Because if there is one more August birthday, I might just keel over and die.
I know that during the start of November it’s starting to get cold and that snuggling naked under the covers appears to make more sense than putting on a sweatshirt, but please, for the love of my waistline and my wallet, constrain yourselves.
P.S. And, yes, I know that having said that I’ve just cursed myself with a house full of babies born in August when the time is right. Damn it.