Author Topic: Touching Words.  (Read 3968 times)

Offline Roger Kettle

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Touching Words.
« on: December 11, 2006, 06:24:06 PM »
At my daughter's recent 19th Birthday, we were reminiscing about the night of her birth. I had been at the hospital for hours, doing all the hard work while my wife had the nice, comfy bed. I certainly deserved a pint and set off for my local to meet my friend Dave and break the news. Dave, himself a father, put his arm round my shoulder.
"I know how you feel, Rog...at this moment, you've never loved your wife more."
"That's..that's true", I replied.
"Don't worry", said Dave "it passes".

Offline The Peepmaster

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Re: Touching Words.
« Reply #1 on: December 11, 2006, 06:44:45 PM »
I missed the birth of my eldest son. They sent me home in the evening and said to come back in the morning, but to phone first. Of course, when I phoned early on, my wife had had the baby and I'd been out of the way! With my second son, it was suggested I went to the canteen for a cup of tea. I didn't stay long and found they'd taken her in to delivery. I almost missed that one too!

To be fair, my wife was briliant. She held my hand all the way through what was quite a difficult time for me, what with being squeamish...
Nostalgia is not what it used to be. 😟

Offline Roger Kettle

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Re: Touching Words.
« Reply #2 on: December 11, 2006, 10:40:48 PM »
You are so right, Nige. Aren't those contractions really sore when your wife grabs your hand? Honestly, I was in agony.

Joan

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Re: Touching Words.
« Reply #3 on: December 11, 2006, 11:42:06 PM »
Ha!  You thought it was safe, didn?t you, R?  I see you there!  I have to take 5 minutes off my hard work to get my oar in here.

Hand squeezing is nothing ? my other half will tell you ? with our second,  I was punching him in the stomach in time to my breathing.  Believe me, I needed a paper bag by that time.  He needed the pethidine.

Happy Birthday to your daughter ? our son (first) will be 21 next year.  He?s just gone out to do Christmas shopping ? still living at home.  Do they ever leave these days?