parenty stuff

Daniel and I trotted off to do our bit for the DNA testing required to determine who the little tyke's father is. I mean, there were so many men in that bar that night. That was a joke, by the way. There were only a couple, ahem.

On that particular day, we'd earlier been fart-arsing around at the child car seat vendor's place, getting his diamond encrusted one adjusted to actually fit his scrummy self, hallelujah, so we were early for our appointment at the laboratory. Daniel needed a nap and I needed to waste forty five minutes, so we blew the cobwebs off his stroller and took him and it for a walk through the Botanic Gardens.

This city is the size of a thumb tack and the Gardens are a mere twenty minutes away from where I live, and yet I haven't been there since that school trip we took in grade five. I thoroughly enjoyed our stroll and am now entertaining the fantasy of visiting them more often. It's a beautiful place in which to create beautiful memories, and if I can give Daniel a multitude of those, then I can tell him to quit his whining when he starts carrying on about being the only boy in school without an X-Box.

By the time we returned to the labs, my thighs had had a thorough work out from pushing the little prince back up the steep inclines that had been disguised as gentle slopes on the way in, and the D had had enough of a nap to be quite reasonable about sitting around while I read the latest WHO magazine in the waiting area. Soon enough though, photos were taken, statutory declarations were signed, and in a style not unlike that of the CSIs, swabs were inserted into our mouths. Daniel fucking loved it. LOVED it. I'm not kidding. He'd developed a bit of a leery stare as proceedings unfolded, and wasn't thrilled about the big, giant Q-Tip being swirled around in my cake hole, so I thought he was going to lose his shit on us when it was his turn. Au contraire, mes amis. Dude leapt onto that swab like a champ, and enjoyed the experience so much I thought we were going to have to put an Adults Only rating onto the paperwork. When the sodden mess was extracted from his mouth, he started to cry until the technician took advantage of his wailing maw and plugged him right back up again with another one. Cue more pornstar action, followed by a resounding *thuck* as the swab was extracted from his unobliging little sucktacular mouth.

So that was it, two swabs each and a two week wait for the results. I hope they come back confirming that I really am his mother because I've grown quite fond of the little guy.