The writing is on the wall. Both sides.

Day 25 in the big brother house, and the house mates await the result of this month's challenge: knock up the wee Irish woman.

Easier said than done, but they did their best.

The last two cycles have been 25 days, so on that pattern we expect the red menace tomorrow, or by Wednesday at a stretch.

To make the 'end of days' more fun, we can always look at the symptoms we have.

Go-goo. Or at least what seems to be go-goo. Could be a good sign at this stage of the cycle, or could be, er, how can I sensitively put this, er... 'leftovers'.

Sore boobies. While I'd love to claim that it's just a result of some manly mammary mauling, it's more likely to be the oncoming red menace, or....

Temperature. In previous cycles, ET's temperature dropped towards the end of the cycle, this one has been a bit different. 7 days after O-fest we had a drop, but it's climbed again.
The drop could be the 'normal' tail off of a non pregnant cycle, with the increase a 'blip', or, it could have been an implantation dip and the unspeakable is happening.

I think the only symptoms of pregnancy that are not exactly the same as the impending red menace are the bowling ball gut and craving for coal.

I'm trying to be a bit cool about it all, but there's a teeny weeny bit of me (not that bit, smartarse) excited at the moment.

A teeny weeny bit.

No brakes

There's no holding back this beast.

Oh relax; I'm not going all Jackie Collins with tales of rippling torsos, love swords, and other such non-existant fictional manliness.

I mean the beast of 'time', ooh the imagery eh?

The creature is thrashing his way through the jungle, mercilessly, maybe even unknowingly, trodding on and flattening all the days and weeks and months in his way. Leaving a distinct, but winding trail, leading back for nineteen cycles.

(I picture a rhino, if that helps.)

We're now in the tail end of number nineteen, cycle day 21. The last two cycles have been 25 days each, with the average being about 27.

You can hang from the gutter by your ankles but whatever way you look at it, we are in the last week again.

One week from now I'll either be a wobbly, stuttery, gibbering mess or, well,... a wobbly, stuttery, gibbering mess, but one as happy as if he were standing up to a pair of porcine testes in excrement.

That's what's fascinating me today, the simpleton that I am.

One minute we could be two grumpy, frustrated, sad, repeatedly disappointed, 19 months ridden raw, humiliated, poked & prodded redundant shaggers, and the next we could be higher than Robert Downey Jr. on an average Friday night.

Just like that, with a little push of a sphincter, instant bliss from a piss.

Assuming we can harness that Downey Jr. spirit constructively, and stay out of the neighbour's swimming pool, we could be expecting.

All that is just a scandalous waste of my time and yours, just so I could say that out loud, 'we could be expecting'.

Sounds nice doesn't it?

Much nicer than 'shut up you intellectual and emotional dwarf, and don't be making yourself look like a bigger dope than you already are' which I'm sure is what's being hissed at me right now.

In my defence, this is my head and I can say what I like, it was just only for a minute, and it passed some time, and I don't really think it's likely anyway.

Nice thought though, if only briefly.

...aaaaaand we're right back to saddo.

Quod erat demonstrandum

Having proven myself to be an utter saddo, I'm going to redeem myself by applying logic, to a standard never before witnessed by man, to a conundrum which must have kept entire civilisations awake at night.

A few comments regarding pregnancy announcements got me thinking.

Why do we want it so badly?

'We', being most people, and 'it', being having children.

It's a very simple question, but funnily enough, I don't think I've seen too much in the way of answers.

In fact, the question is rarely even asked.

We seem to usually just accept that the need/desire/longing/wish exists, and it's origins or motives are never questioned.

Is it the 'need to leave something behind'?
I don't think so, I have no great desire to see my genes or bloodline carry on for all eternity.

Maybe for some people it's a bigger issue, but as shocking as this may sound to you, I'm not particularly that great a specimen of the human race, and I don't think the world would suffer as a result of me or my offspring not being around.

Is it a 'need to have dependants'?
Surely not.

I mean, if you think about it, no one in their right mind would actually desire having their freedom, patience, finances, sex lives, sleep, identity, and sanity bled dry for close to 20 years would they?

Baby bottoms might be cute on TV ads, but wiping excrement from someone else's anus can't ever be made seem appealing enough to make people want to jump through hoops to do it.

Is it the 'human need to procreate'?
Nature is pretty bloody smart.

Creatures evolve to survive, plants spread their seed across oceans stuck to the ass of seagulls, species that no longer serve a purpose die out. Nature, when left to itself, adapts and dictates how the planet continues.

Humans on the other hand, are hell bent on buggering the whole thing up. We do not need any more humans, we can't feed half the ones we have, and the other half are hell bent on destroying the place for the sake of a few bucks.

We are supposedly intelligent creatures, yet almost everything we do is another step towards Armageddon.

Needing more humans is not part of nature's plan, I reckon.

So what does it leave us with? Why is it so important to us?

When you first make the decision as a couple to have a child, it's an exciting, bubbly, giddy time. Two adults acting like kids. You want to tell anyone who will listen.

You go through all kinds of mini battles.

You see people spending a fortune to achieve it. You see people put their bodies through all kinds of strain and abuse to get there. You see people willing to have their most intimate details exposed and discussed in the most sterile, clinical manner. You see people writing all sorts of drivel and making fools of themselves, just to get through the waiting.

Obviously, as the ever observant among you will have noticed, we haven't gotten that far, but when you succeed, I can only imagine the excitement to be verging on a threat to one's continence.

I think you look on more in envy at people who are expecting a child, than those who have them, so is the longing rooted more in the hope than the end result?

At risk of having my cynical head start to spin and fly right off my chubby body into the night, I'm inclined to think that the desire to have a child is not driven by anything tangible, but rather, simply by hope.

The hope for what might become, hope for shared excitement, hope for more happiness, hope more smiles, hope for a squeeze or hug. Hope for a little love.

Q.E.D. ?

(Fading out to the tune of John and Yoko, If anyone should find my head, I'd appreciate it back, cheers.)