Did you see those reports during the week about a couple who sued a hospital because a sterilisation operation didn’t work? It seems the woman had a tubal ligation in the Coombe, and on the face of it, that appeared to be that. The end. No more babies.
It’s very final.
No more puking into people’s faces. No more howling at five in the morning when your head is hanging off with the sleep. No more tantrums or rolling on the floor. The end of falling off tables. Goodbye to lollipops walked into the carpet. No more pissing on the furniture.
And that’s just you.
No nappies, no dragging buggies through revolving doors, no shite everywhere, and maybe, for a change, a little money left in your pocket at the end of the week.
So obviously, when I saw that these people went on to have another two children after the operation, I was outraged and overwhelmed with sympathy for them. Damn right, they should sue the hospital! That’s ridiculous!! You have an operation and they tell you everything is fine, but then you go on to have another two children. Fucking disgraceful!
That’s what I thought.
And then I thought: TWO? Did they say two children?
Right. Let’s just retrace a little here, shall we?
Ah, ehrm, ah, um . . . How do I put this?
Did they not have the tiniest hint after the first child that maybe the operation didn’t work?
Apparently not. OK. Right, Ted.