Pineapples...

Well, it's official: The Missus is fed up with this whole pregnancy caper. That's right, she has had enough, she's sick of it. Mood swings, frequent urination, a lack of energy and low libido are just some of the things about pregnancy I find objectionable, so I can only imagine what The Missus hates about it.

After coming home from work yesterday, I found The Missus curled up in the foetal position on the couch. She mumbled that she would have sex with me, if only she wasn't so tired. I told her I appreciated the thought. "It's got nothing to do with you," she said. "They say there's some chemical in the semen that can induce labour." I felt loved, I must say. But to the best of my knowledge, it was my semen that got us into this mess, I would have never guessed the same semen could get us out of the same mess early too.

Apparently, while I was at work, The Missus was at home researching The Internet for natural ways to induce pregnancy. The solutions ranged from the absurd (sex) to the bizarre (eating seven pineapples) to the erotic (massaging the nipples) and the unthinkable (eating spicy food, which The Missus despises). In the end she settled on one scientifically unproven theory: taking bumpy car rides.

I sat, smoking for the next hour and a half as The Missus sped up and down our unpaved driveway. After ninety (90) minutes, she staggered out cursing up a foul storm. I was stunned that the scientifically unproven theory had failed. I was stunned and The Missus was dirty.

Now we have to rely on Nature, of all things, to get this thing done.