Broody

I just suddenly decided to listen to 'Happy Birthday Jesus'. And it's summer, a long long way from Christmas. I confess I am a Christmas freak. If I could get away with having the tree up all the year round, I would. If having a Christmas wreath at my door wouldn't arouse speculation, then that's what I'd do. I love the carols, the bells, the lights, the tinsel, the stars, the presents of course. And I am in love with the feeling of Christmas love. Even though it's August. There is something I'm not liking though. Before, I could listen to this 'Happy Birthday Jesus' a million times and feel euphoric, whatever day or month it was, even if it was at that time of the month. This time round though, something has changed. It's making me almost sad, almost. Not terribly sad, but just a little bit, that little bit which is slamming my body down. I'm totally out of order, unable to do anything except listen and write and cry. And a new feeling is sweeping over me. I'm broody, not just a little bit but plenty of little bits. And plenty of little bits joined together make one big broody me. Perhaps it's because it's throwing me back to last Christmas' bid to have a little man of my own. I tried, I tried my best. God knows I did. But Sedqa and Appogg know it better. They think they know it all. They also broke my heart but that's not as important as the fact that they broke a little man's heart. So perhaps I have to turn to my own thing. Yes, it's coming, the sex. But really this time I have no choice, if I want a little man or a little woman then procreation is the only way. And procreation is a very uppa' class word for ... having sex, making out, doing it. You get to lie down, then the male partner lies on top of you. Or the male lies down and you lie down on top of him. Or maybe you find yourself kneeling and your male partner is right behind you. Yet another possibility is using bricks and mortar, i.e. doing it up against the wall.. if I had less kilos. Or perhaps both sit on top of each other. Loads of possibilities. And this time, just this time, no electrical device is going to do it. But then I think since it's something I'm wanting... can't it be selfish? I mean nobody asked me if I wanted to grace the world. And I'm not sure I would have accepted the proposal. So who am I to go forth and multiply since I cannot ask the little would be in question the question? And then, after all, perhaps I'm already too old for it. The baby thing, not the other thing, mind you. I have risked it happening plenty of times, perhaps because I like risking, or perhaps the subconscious was playing funny tricks. My biological clock is ticking fast, but is it a good enough reason to go forth and work out the multiplication as yet? What if I get it wrong, and do I need to use a special kind of calculator?