Mum says your brain is now the size of a small Maltesar, so I thought I'd take this opportunity to fill it up with some sisterly advice: NEVER DATE SOMEONE MORE ATTRACTIVE THAN YOU. Yes, he might have exactly the same taste in music, he might own the greatest arse in the history of arses and his fingers might do things to your lady-clam that you didn't think were possible but if you're a "four" and he's a "ten" then it's never going to work.
If you're wondering why I'm crushing all your hope before you're even born it's because
1) the world is a cruel place and
2) I'm already annoyed at you for ruining my future lie-ins, interrupting my future meal-times and stinking out the future house.
Some more bad things for you to not look forward to:
Your second name will be Bouchtat. There's no way you're not going to have a problem with food. You don't even have genitals and already your mother is comparing your head to confectionary. Britpop will be over by the time you're sixteen. This gives you nothing to live for.
On second thoughts, perhaps you'd be better off staying in your amniotic sac. At least you can't meet, fall in love with, fail to have sex with and then DUMP the most heart-achingly perfect boy since Jason Donavan from in there.
