I think we have cracked it.
I said to my mate Daz.
He nodded in agreement. We were sitting on a comfy couch in a place called the White Elephant. Nearby, our youngest kids were running about like demented chimps in a cordoned off, padded children's area.
We were sitting in an Adult onlooker section, free of sticky grabby hands and slobbery chops.
It was magic.
Such a good call, mate. I never even knew this place existed.
I said to Daz as I took a sip of my coffee with a contented sigh.
Aye, it's a sanity saver alright.
He replied.
We had met for our usual Monday hook-up for the first time of the new year. I was keen to hear of how things were for him now that his and his wife were expecting baby number 3.
So, how's everything going with the pregnancy?
I asked chirpily, like a man who's missus wasn't full of hormonal rage and urge to eat pickled eggs.
Hmmph, don't ask, mate. Don't ask.
He shook his head and looked at the floor.
Ever the respecter of others wishes, I didn't ask. Instead, I chilled for a moment as the children ran about, not needing constant adult supervision.
She's back to wanting it.
He said quietly.
Oh no, mate. Seriously? Is she not too far gone? Ewww.
I recoiled as if he had told me that she had big sweaty balls.
Nah, she went off it for a bit and I got a break then but it must be the hormones, she keeps tapping me up. Making me do it.
I resisted the un-mannish urge to reach out and pat him sympathetically on the shoulder. Instead, I grimaced as if I had just eaten Crème Brûlée, - more commonly known as arse-custard in Glasgow.
It will probably calm down soon, dude. She cannae keep at you for much longer, she must be the size of a house now? How far gone is she?
Daz looked u pat the ceiling as he thought hard on that one.
Dunno? Five months or something? She's not that big but big enough, you know.
He gestured as if he were swimming reluctantly through thick mud.
I shuddered for a moment as I remembered the awful hell that was the making sweet potato pie with your good lady when she was up the duff.
Is it, you know...
I said hesitantly. There are some lines that even us men have to be careful of crossing and I felt like I was on the verge of one just by asking.
He looked confused.
Is it what?
He asked.
You know... All cleggy with the preggo mucus?
I made a face as if I could barely stomach saying the words. Let alone the idea of pushing my proud shepherd unto the breach.
Daz almost fell off his chair. His face a picture of horror as his mind tried to make sense of what I had just said.
Aw, mate. That's going too far.
He said, shaking his head.
I lowered my head sheepishly.
I know, mate. Sorry.
He lifted his fingers up to the bridge of his nose and pinched it as if his head hurt before looking at me out of the corner of his eye.
But, aye. It is a bit...
Urrgh.
I made as polite a boak face as I could.
Not be long till it's over, mate.
This time I did reach out and pat him on the shoulder. We both looked off into the distance and tried to pretend the last few sentences hadn't just happened.
