Wanda Harland's expectant!

I'm not getting around to reading the web much these days, but I'm not at Playcentre where I wonder if Iris is missing Rosa, I'm sitting with Hazel as she doesn't vomit some more (keep not vomiting Hazel; it's a good look) drifting through months of words and it turns out that Wanda Harland's expectant! Omigodomigod!

(Examines self for urge forth to go forth and do likewise... nope, it's still schadenfreude I'm afraid, I prefer other people to do the vomiting.)

I think I used to hope my life would be like this someday.

There's a party outside this door, but inside this quiet room there are three little blonde girls calming down with a book. The biggest one is reading aloud. The other two are pretty worn out (as you'd expect after 6 hours of party) but valiantly trying to stay awake. I'm hoping it will all go smoothly and soon I'll be triumphantly telling Sean of sleeping children.

I can hear my friends laughing out in the house, finding things to talk about with other friends of mine. Some people have a glowing disc and are flinging it about the lawn; they've already got a person saying he's willing to try it.