But I’m carrying our baby

“But I’m carrying our baby.”

An increasingly common refrain heard emanating from under piles of cushions on the sofa.

Most often heard used in a pleading voice as a final attempt to satisfy the latest of S’s craves.

Today the “I’m carrying the baby” angle has been used repeatedly to try to get me to go over to Ratu Plaza to pick up a pirated copy of the latest West Wing series. That we’ve got 20 other DVDs to choose from is irrelevant as S has her heart set on West Wing.

“Why don’t you watch this?” I ask holding any DVD selected at random from the pile.

“Oh I’ll lose interest in that and forget what is going on” S says.

Unlike West Wing of course — a rapid fire political sitcom, where dashing to the kitchen to grab another drink generally leads to plot-following oblivion.

“Well what about this one?” I ask holding another DVD selected at random from the pile.

“Can you make me some pumpkin soup for dinner?”
Oh no — here we go, back to food again.

“We don’t have any pumpkin” I say — too quickly — and fall into her fast-closing trap.

“You could get some pumpkin at Ratu Plaza and get the West Wing at the same time. Pleassssseeeeee”

Before you call me a mean-spirited bastard, bear it is Sunday afternoon on the Easter long weekend (while Indonesia may well be a Muslim country, any holiday will do) and if I was a 16 year old kid selling pirated DVDs in an empty mall I’d have certainly knocked off by now.

I’ll get the West Wing tomorrow and in the mean time I’ll continue to parry her attempts to get me to buy pirated goods – hell — doesn’t she know that is illegal!

S is laying on the couch, watching me through one eye. I know exactly what S is thinking…

“He’s writing on that bloody blog again. Why won’t he go get me West Wing”

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