“It was nine months ago I received the joyful news from my wife; a baby on the way! She was pregnant, after so many years of trying. I wept happy tears, we talked and talked, long into the night about the future. Birth! Playschool! Family trips! Teething problems! Teenage years!
I was on cloud nine. It was the best news I’d ever had, after so many terrible times during the credit crunch, our future was bright! The family tree, assured and strong.
Over the months the anticipation grew. We’d go to the hospital to see the scans, the baby growing, developing in the womb. As the time grew near, and the belly grew, I set up a nest. I made a baby’s bedroom like no other; a glittering, cheery and heartwarming place for the newborn. We discussed names. I bought a cot. I bought mobiles…teddy bears..I got a loan especially.
Then one day, my wife began to have contractions and went into labor. The time was near! She had opted for a home birth.Oddly, she told me she’d deliver it herself. Strong woman, that wife of mine.
After forty eight hours of continuous, tortured screams….the baby was born.
Out slid a potato, thudding onto the floor. From under her shirt, a giant pillow was produced.
It was all a sham. A ruse. She wasn’t pregnant at all.
It was the longest practical joke ever. I cried for weeks. My world, devastated.”