The baby does not scream because it hates me.
The baby does not yelp and cry because it hates my touch.
It is more than likely that the baby has reflux, a home care nurse has told me.
A pamphlet featuring persons from a low socio-economic group was thrust into my hands yesterday. I failed to identify with the cover couple, but due to family history, have been classified as high risk. This means that I could go tropical bananas at any time, or throw myself off a footbridge due to post natal depression. To date, the only thing I feel like doing at a bridge is feed ducks stale bread.
Regardless, a panel has decided to track my progress over a period of two years. I feel similar to a shark that has been micro-chipped. My travels to the local K-Mart will probably show up on a radar *blip* *blip* *blip*. I suppose they need some success stories to keep the programme running. Cupcake and I will be this.
I just hope the baby whose place we have taken stays safe.
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