Because I can!

After a 9 vomit-free weeks, the past two weeks have been have been puke-o-rama, culminating in the pitiable spectacle of me drooling down the side of my face whilst trying to get some popscicles from the supermarket – I'm pretty sure people wanted to call the cops to arrest me for "public drunkenness".

In two days I will be 11 weeks – as such, quite close to being in the second trimester and this little fetus needs to take the hint and stop making me sick already: I have grown him/her/it a placenta, what more does it want? Perhaps some sort of motivational sign is in order: Vomit-Free For [X] Days or similar. I could have it printed on a T-shirt, with velcro-on numbers.

We have a saying in this household: 'Don't piss off the pregnant.' (OK, not so much a saying as an edict.) Number one surefire way of accomplishing this: refraining from assuring me that throwing up is 'a good sign', to which I can only reply, a good sign of what, exactly? That I have a heroic, not to mention hair-trigger, gag reflex? Useful, I'll grant you, when walking open-mouthed through areas densely populated with flying insects: less so when trying to maintain oral hygiene? Or indeed, perhaps it signals a bumper year for toothpaste manufacturers as I vainly attempt to prevent what's left of my tooth enamel from disappearing down the drain?

This whole 'your suffering is a good thing' attitude is what I call vicarious forbearance – in other words, people being all 'up with your chinny-chin-chin' on your behalf because they don't think you are doing it properly, or enough.

Smug bastards.