Hoovering hormones have gone full-term

WHAT KATI DID NEXT:

As I write, I am awaiting the beginning of the beginning.

Gosh. That sounds dramatic doesn’t it? Well let me tell you, all my male friends out there, it blinking well feels like it.

I am now considered full-term in my pregnancy and to all intents and purposes, I am sat on what is now a substantially larger posterior waiting for judgement day.

Or at least that is what I should be doing.

I wrote a few weeks ago about the intense nesting instinct which had overcome my normal tertiary existence.

This has now stepped up a gear. At the thought of our imminent arrival, I have searched the house high and low for a certain kind of brush that will take the lint off an item of clothing.

An item, I would like to point out, I haven’t worn for . . . oh, about four years, haven’t liked for . . . oh, let’s say about four years and to be honest should have sent to the charity shop . . . oh, how about four years ago.

I have not only managed to sort through everything I love and need, I am now at the developmental stages of sorting through everything I hate and don’t want.

I am thinking of starting up a new business. One involving pregnant women in the latter stages of pregnancy channelling the most intense hoovering hormones.

Hey, that could be the name of my business — “Hoovering Hormones”. What do you mean, “no”?

Anyway, off to “Dragons’ Den” I go with my Charlie’s Angels-type graphics, except the ladies are over eight months’ pregnant holding either a nappy, a rattle or a duster.

Do you know, I think this is a goer. Off we send these crazed individuals armed with buckets, bleach and the desire to throw everyday useful objects in the bin, to the houses of clutter merchants and give it, let’s say two hours, wherein the home owners will return to not only a clean house, but probably a newly-painted one.

Hey, there may even be a new husband and family installed in there.

Let’s not stop at the practical. I think at this stage I should go and lie down and conserve some energy for the big event.

Let me just find those rubber gloves . . . they may come in handy. Wish me luck.