All my children, at various stages of their childhood, have loved to hear all the details about their births – obviously not the older ones now – the whole idea of mother ever having sex is just gross and a taboo subject.
When they were younger they all wanted details, competing with each other as to who was the fastest and easiest, who managed to create the most stitches, who was the biggest/smallest/cutest – who had the cone head for the longest, who fed for the longest, who gave mommy the biggest piles – bloody hell, I could carry on for hours – but I’m sure you get my drift 😳
Incidentally my hardest labour was, unsurprisingly, 1st born – 27 hours in labour, every drug and pain relief used – I begged to be hit over the head with a bedpan – killed, anything – just stop this bloody pain!
I was telling him about how he was eventually delivered in the theatre with shovels – that they pretended were forceps – round his head. He eagerly listened as I told him how his Daddy was there, and the Surgeon, some midwives and a few medical students all urging me to PUUUUSSSHHHH ………….
He looked at me with awe and then said
“I was just like the Enormous Turnip wasn’t I”😄😄