Walking along Broadway in Newmarket at lunch time yesterday, I came across a woman trying to organise three children on a very busy sidewalk. Triplets. Boys. About 3 years old, maybe a bit more. Chaos. Which made me realise that I forgot to ask the hospital last week whether they had a refund policy for triplets (or worse). I could do twins, but triplets is a bit rough, so just a partial refund would be fine. Bugger.
I didn't get a particularly positive reaction though when I asked about return to sender options if they should mix me up a bratski. They laughed. Laughed! Fancy that. Then they had the audacity to say that they couldn't be held responsible for the results of any particular genetic mix! Honestly! Like it would be me and the husband's fault if our kid was spawn of the devil! How rude!
No one is accountable for anything these days...
It's a sad, sad world my friends.
1 comment:
hee hee, nothing like a glimpse into ones own future . . . did they have red hair? and were they dismantling cars on the sidewalk?
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