The Reproductive Life of a Bubble

Ya know, I've been making a real effort to stop talking about Bubbles in a negative manner. Honest. I've posted about her before and then felt a twinge of guilt the next morning when she came skipping in to the asylum.

It seems though that the Universe has a subtle way of reminding us why we felt the way we did, that we're not the bad people we thought we were and that a little bit of venting isn't always a bad thing.

I was privileged this afternoon to listen to Bubbles, who was in rare form by the way, discuss the finer points of her upcoming tubal ligation, her bubbahubby's family history of prostate cancer and how that means he shouldn't have a vasectomy (say wut?), her miscarriage, how easily she got pregnant immediately after getting married ("without even thinking about it!!") and how she would just have to endure her pain if she didn't want to have any more babies. She had this conversation on the phone, with a male customer and it went on for nearly an hour.

Maybe I'm getting prudish in my old age, but it just doesn't seem very professional to be harping on about your freakin' REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS to the customers on the phone.

Gawd.