24-04-09 Making a baby

[markfiend]

The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, 'Well, I'm off now. The man should be here soon.'

Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. 'Good morning, Ma'am', he said, 'I've come to...'

'Oh, no need to explain,' Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, 'I've been expecting you.'

'Have you really?' said the photographer. 'Well, that's good. Did you know babies are my specialty?'

'Well that's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat !.

After a moment she asked, blushing, 'Well, where do we start?'

'Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there.'

'Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work out for Harry and me!'

'Well, Ma'am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results.'

'My, that's a lot!', gasped Mrs. Smith.

'Ma'am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I'd love to be In and out in five minutes, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed with that.'

'Don't I know it,' said Mrs. Smith quietly.

The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. 'This was done on the top of a bus,' he said.

'Oh, my God!' Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.

'And these twins turned out exceptionally well - when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with.'

'She was difficult?' asked Mrs. Smith.

'Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look'

'Four and five deep?' said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.

'Yes', the photographer replied. 'And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate, and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in.'

Mrs. Smith leaned forward. 'Do you mean they actually chewed on your, uh....equipment?'

'It's true, Ma'am, yes.. Well, if you're ready, I'll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away.'

'Tripod?'

'Oh yes, Ma'am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big to be held in the hand very long.'

Mrs. Smith fainted

[EvilBastard]

As luck would have it, Mrs. Smith conceived and the next 9 months in the Smith household were spent preparing the nursery and getting ready for the happy event.
Mrs. Smith had had to use fertility drugs, and the doctor cautioned that there was the possibility that she may have twins or triplets, but unfortunately his ultrasound machine was broken and he couldn't say whether there was more than one in the oven.

The day of the birth arrived, and Mr. Smith brought the car around, gently helped hiw wife into it, and drove to the hospital. The midwife told him that tehre was no point in waiting, it would be a while before anything happened, and he'd only get in the way. She suggested that he repair to the local pub and call every hour or so to get an update.

So Mr. Smith goes around the corner to the boozer, and settles in for a long wait. An hour and 2 pints passes, so he calls the hospital.

"No, Mr. Smith - nothing yet. Call back in an hour."

Another hour goes by, 2 more pints and a double scotch.

"No, Mr. Smith - nothing yet but it looks like things might start happening soon."

Another hour goes by, 2 more pints, a double scotch, and a brandy to steady his nerves.

He calls again. "Congratulations, Mr. Smith! You are the father of a beautiful baby boy! But she's still in delivery so I think there are more in there. Call back in an hour."

Another hour passes - 1 pint, 3 scotches, a brandy and peppermint schnapps to takes the smell of alcohol off his breath.

"Mr. Smith - it's amazing! You have a son, and now a daughter, and I think there could be one or two waiting to come out. Call back in an hour."

2 pints, 2 scotches, 3 brandies, and a JagerMeister.

"Mr. Smith! First out was a boy, then a girl came out, then another boy, and I think that's everyone but call back in an hour to make sure."

3 pints, a scotch, a Baileys, 2 brandies, a jagermeister, and Drambuie.

By this time Mr. Smith is a little unsteady on his feet, and goes to the phone to call the hospital. Unfortunately his mis-dials and gets the automated cricket score-line instead.

"115 all out, last one was a duck."

Mr. Smith fainted.

[markfiend]

[James Blast]

who are these bloody Smith peoples, ur they daft!?

[Big Si]

who are these bloody Smith peoples, ur they daft!?

No relation

[James Blast]

ah.....

[Petseri]

who are these bloody Smith peoples, ur they daft!?

Related to these people?

[James Blast]

Oh my Lord!

dinna click folks

[markfiend]

Oh my Lord!

dinna click folks

Too late, I clicked