A child is yawn

First of all, a Happy New Year and other over-familiar pleasantries. I hope this year brings you exactly what you asked for, or at least what you deserve.

Anyway, today I want to have a low-key rant about baby weights. Put simply, who gives a monkey's sweet nad about how heavy a baby is at birth? It seems to be the first question asked (especially by women) but I fail to see what interest it holds for the bystander.

Now, if it's a whopper (2 stone, for example) it's worthy of note; similarly if it's like a pound or something, but when 90% (not even remotely researched) of kids are about 6-7 pounds, why do we care?

I've thought this for a while when I've listened to the clucking old women at work harping on about how heavy our Liane's firstborn is, or how Bertha from Accounts was saying that her son's wife had to be induced and it was 8 pounds and I'm going to visit them tonight and I've bought them some flowers and a magazine and a cardigan and SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I really, REALLY don't care, so stop telling me. If I'm in the room when you're telling someone else, it's my responsibility to clear off, but if I'm trying to work and you're just wittering, I reserve the right to tell you my assertive opinions on the subject. Good day.

Got a bit angry there, but to be fair the season of goodwill is now behind us for another year. All the best.