November 12, 2009


So, When is the Baby Due?

This might be the single stupidest question you could ask a woman. Some comedian said unless you see a baby's head emerging from between her legs, you never ask a woman that. I know someone I love very much who is very close to me ::cough::Roz::cough:: will never, ever ask someone that question. Again.

Speaking of faux pas, (or faux pi, maybe) Harper's office made one. No, no, I know most of what Stephen Harper does is faux (concern for voters, concern for women, concern for children, concern for anyone who doesn't wear grey suits and have a side part), this one was better.

There was a shindig in Toronto so that Harper could faux care about Canada's military. A rumour flew around the room that Margaret Thatcher was dead. 'But didn't she die years ago?' you ask yourself. No, like many old British battle axes, she was just put out of sight of company and hauled out when someone needed a good story or two about why people on welfare are killing the world. Or something like that.

Anyway. 'Thatcher has died' flew around the room, and landed in Harper's ear. This is how things that are shared via the most annoying thing in the world - tweeting - happen. They land. Like bugs. I do not know if it was a tweet, but it was some kind of instant message, which is quickly becoming a shorthand for instant stupid.

Harper's office immediately flew into overdrive putting together condolences. Now, let me back up here. Margaret Thatcher turned 84 on her last birthday. You'd think they'd at least have a rough draft kicking around somewhere, no? Anyway, someone finally emailed the British PMs office. Or maybe they tweeted him. I'm not sure.

She ain't dead. Thatcher the cat is dead. John Baird, the Transport Minister, actually named his cat Thatcher. After Margaret Thatcher. Which just seems both cruel and unusual. I mean, my cat's name is Maggie, but I'll pretend I named her after Atwood before I'd say I named her after Thatcher.

So. The feline Thatcher was dispatched to the great catnip cloud in the sky. And Margaret Thatcher is no doubt wondering why these silly Canadians can't wait to bury her.

Anyone in British parliament have a cat named Harper, you think?

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I got asked when the baby was due while I was shopping for a stroller....he was two weeks old at the time.
I will never ask that question.

November 12, 2009 11:10 AM  
Anonymous buzzwhack said...

You can NEVER ask that question safely.I've seen it happen to a horizontally challenged lady and it wasn't pretty. As the guy ducked from the flying celery stalks, he said, " I'm not feeling the love.." Was darn lucky no one cam corded it.

November 12, 2009 4:24 PM  
Blogger Nursedude said...

I was at work once when one of our maintenance men asked a lady on her first day back from maternity leave (she'd had twins) when the babies were due. Never really understood the whole "it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop" thing until moment. I've never seen an entire nurses station so still.

November 13, 2009 11:23 AM  

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