So, What's Life?

These days, I really wonder about that. At times, I fear I'm going senile a little too early. I mean, people, I'm just 33 years old! Okay, that's approaching middle age, but... the meaning of life? Is that something proper to think about now? But I confess I do. I really wonder why I've been put here, on this little round thing that goes round and round another round thing... no, that sounds silly. Heck, I wanted to start writing a seroius blog!

Okay, back up. I'll start again. I've been married for three years now. My wife, the most beautiful woman on earth, is perfectly okay. Me, the gnome who's scrabbling to climb up the walls of the pit into the civilized world, is not. It seems I have this infertility problem... and both of us want a baby so bad that we would steal one if we could. No, not really, but we are perfectly capable of thinking about stealing one. Okay, so you get the problem?

As I said, I often wonder about life. How's it that the guys whom I know make babies by accident and then get rid of them without even blinking an eyelid while we've been going down all sorts of paths - boy, I better not get started on all the paths now - find ourselves blocked by this seemingly insurmountable brick wall called infertility? You see, I'm not too bad a complainer either...

Okay, this is getting too gloomy for a serious blog.
Yesterday, we were - my wife and I - driving home from an outing. On the way she saw a nice ad-poster of a jewellery, with a girl draped in a sparkling silk saree smiling at the whole wide world.
'Hub, look at that girl,' she said. 'What a figure!'
I, wise after many responses and subsequent reactions, remained silent.
'Remember how you complained about the cost of the facial that I had last week? These girls do whole body facials! Think about that!'
'Bocials,' I replied.
'What?'
'When you do it on the face, it's a facial,' I explained. 'When it's the whole body, it's a bocial.'
She thought about it for a while. She kept looking at me sideways to make sure I was not smirking. She was convinced after five minutes of delibration, and she made a decision.
'When we become rich,' she said, 'I'm going to get a bocial too.'

I too made a decision then. The punchline I was preparing turned sour in my mouth as I suddenly realized how much I loved her. I knew that there was something she wanted even more than a bocial, and here I was, stalling, watching time slip away, hoping Nature would cure me by a miracle. There. That's said now. We're going to make a baby, whatever it takes.