Bun in oven

Hey fishy fishy

I don’t know what it is about Lunar New Year and/or pregnancy that allow people to say the darnest things. Seriously. It’s like all inhibitions fly right out of the window once you are pregnant and women feel free to talk to you about things that ought to be private. Throw in the festive season and wham! loads of weird stuff come your way.

This year, the comment that takes home the prize is from Mr Thick’s aunt. We were at the in-law’s for lunch on the second day of LNY and over the dinning table, his aunt suddenly pointed to the packet drink sitting next to my plate of food and said, “You can’t drink this during confinement.”

I smiled and nodded. (I secretly detest people who tell me what I can or cannot do/drink/eat during pregnancy or confinement.)

She added, “You must be good and not eat nonsense food. For instance, stay off prawns for one month.”

Mmmkay.

And then she continued, “My friend ate prawns during her confinement and she smelt fishy down there.”

My brains exploded.

The rest of our dining companions, by the way, were made up of men: my father-in-law, Mr Thick and his two uncles. Who were all looking gravely at us.

OH. MOTHER.