Because it is Sex Fest 2008. And I'm all sperm, all the time.
(If you have no idea what I'm talking about, see my last post.)
I'm not mocking my husband's sperm by the way. His is manly, virile sperm. It is the stuff of legends. Sperm of steel. They wear helmets and shit. They go where no man dares to go.
For Lucy, I wasn't even on the same city block when he knocked me up. I was having drinks with friends across town. I threw back my head to laugh wildly at someone's joke. I'm dramatic that way. And the little buggers came right up behind me. I kind of said, "ooh!" like some stranger goosed me or something. Then, it was over. I conceived.
For Edie, I'm still not even sure how he did it. I was in the room, but my clothes were on. David got all "Houdini in Vegas" on me. He put a sparkly magic cape over me, laid me in the middle of a circle of lit candles and uttered a few indecipherable words. There was a flash of light. I looked down and I was 3 months pregnant. I'm not even sure we had the sex.
So, for your amusement. And my own - a sperm joke or two:
Why does it take 1 million sperm to fertilize one egg?
They won't stop to ask directions.
And my personal favorite:
One sperm says to the other: "How far is it to the ovaries?"
The other one replies: "Relax. We just passed the tonsils."
Okay, okay I'm nearly done now. I swear I'll start writing about food again. Sometime soon. After the last egg drops. I promise.
Until then, Sex Fest 2008 rocks!
PS: I want to completely apologize to my wonderful mother-in-law in Australia who reads this blog often and is probably mortified that she has to read about her son's sperm. Again. Sometimes it really sucks having a writer in the family.
Sorry, Ann! We love you!