The Sophisticates

My Dear Fellows and Dear Princess Normal,

Pregnant BA* arrived at work this morning after having to work from home yesterday due to a sickly child. This prompted a conversation:

LEMON: How's your boy?
PBA: Much better thank you.
LEMON: My grandson has a runny bum.
PBA: Oh no!
LEMON: Yeah. It's like whenever I get home from work, the first conversation I have is about his poos.
ME: Snigger.
LEMON: Look! Look at him laughing! Just because I said "poo".
ME: Lemon, I am no sophisticate, as well you know.
LEMON: My sons are exactly the same. Always sending me poo emojis.
PBA: You get over it quickly when they are being squirted at you. I was trying to do my hair this morning when my daughter got on the toilet and said, "Smell my pooooooooos". And I thought, really? Is this my life?
LEMON: I know. Although your own children's poos are easier to deal with than other children's.
PBA: I know! Other children's poo is GROSS.
LEMON: I sometimes help out at kindy. I hate it when they call me into the bathroom. Like, "Lemon? Can you come and help? Josh is a bit messy."
PBA: Oh YUCK.
LEMON: Yeah. I'm always like, "Cough cough, oh I'd love to but I don't want to give Josh my cold." Then I'll hear the teacher shouting, "Coward!" as I leave.
PBA: But your own children's poos are FASCINATING. I could - and have - talked to the doctor for hours about my kid's poos. Consistency, colour, regularity...
ME: Caro has an app. 
PBA: Really?
ME: Yes, after her surgery she downloaded a special poo-tracker app to track her poos. So instead of having to tell her doctor, she can just upload a spreadsheet.

So you see, I worked it around to sort of an IT-related discussion at the end there. 

I'm the professional one. Clearly.

S.

* Pregnant well over a year ago. But I don't let things go.