Singer hits wrong note on her baby keepsake
Word of advice to positively glowing new mum Rochelle Humes.
That artwork made from your baby daughter’s umbilical cord probably makes you brim with hormonal tears now.
But in a couple of years, when both your body and mind have returned to their pre-pregnancy shape, it will make your stomach curdle.
It should quickly be stored away in a box marked “baby things kept through temporary insanity”. Slap on one of those biohazard symbols for good measure.
Take it from me, I have a collection of biological keepsakes from fromm my three babies: part of cord stump, lots of baby teeth, offcutsoffcut of hair. Boak.
UnlessUnle you’ve got a spespell to cast or a cauldroncauld to fill, don’t botherbothe – because once you’ve kept them,them you can’t part with them.
DamnDa those baby hormones.hor
His was printed with a bold “Aye” complete with thumbs- up sign. Mine was more cautious: “Mibbes.” Mibbes aye, mibbes, naw – a uniquely Scottish quandary.
I thought those T- shirts would lie in a drawer for a decade, perhaps two. When IndyRef2 f inally rolled around again, as we knew it would, I could pass mine on to my daughter because it would never fit me by that time. And she’d be old enough to cast her own vote, wouldn’t she?
Well, if Sturgeon gets to stick to her proposed timetable, my girl will only be nine.
And, let’s face it, Theresa May’s waggy-fingered attempt to put the blockers on isn’t going to play out well. Ayes or naws, no one likes the prime ministerial equivalent of “ye’ll dae as I telt ye”. It’s probably being printed on T-shirts as we speak.
No matter how often she says “now is not the right time” (and she did say it a lot), you can bet your ballot box the date will indeed be soon. And off we’ll skip down the referendum road again.
Mibbes that’s not such a terrible thing, and not just because there’s an outside chance I might still be able to squeeze into that top (there’s a bit of stretch in it).
There’s been a lot of gnashing of teeth since Sturgeon made her surprise announcement last week, much fearful hand-wringing that there will be terrible fretting and arguing, voices raised and opinions decried. Heavens, how will we cope? That’s just mealtimes in our house.
Yes, it’s a bit wearisome that we’re going back into another campaign. Yes, it’s a bit worrisome because we’ve learned that putting any 50/50 decision in the hands of the people is a fraught process. Brexit brought us here after all.
But let’s keep the heid. We’re being asked for our thoughts and opinions, not to donate a lung. And, as every member of Muirfield Golf Club will tell you, sometimes when you ask the same question a second time, you end up in a more pleasingly democratic and progressive place, especially if things change dramatical ly between one vote and the next.
In their case, they only lost the Open, which fair focused the minds of the old duffers at the Honourable Company of Edinburgh Golfers. Honourable? I ask you.
For the rest of us, we’ve lost Europe, 40 Scottish Labour MPs, any hope of anything other than a Tory government at Westminster and a little bit of our soul as we watched the PM hold hands with Trump. How times have changed in three years.
Remember how Labour MP Jim Murphy carted his Irn-Bru crate around trying to convince us we were Better Together, taking an egg-pelting for his trouble. I kind of miss him now. Who’d have thunk it?
Mibbes we enjoyed the discourse after all. If a decision is difficult and taxing, it’s because it’s important and we care. In my experience, it’s all right to wear your uncertainty because it makes you listen and engage. So I’ll launder my old T-shirt in preparation on one condition – the process must improve.
Let them convince us with facts and civility, don’t scare us and lie to us. No Project Fear or cybernatting. No deceptions emblazoned on the sides of buses. Persuade us with truth. If the worst we have to moan about is being invited to have our say on our country’s future, mibbes we need to get over our own first-world problems.