In gatherings bright, where joy takes flight,
My friends all bloom, a pregnant plight!
A curve they share, a blissful sigh,
While my rear’s the only one riding high!
They’re talking cravings, pickles and ice,
My cravings involve a different vice.
No baby kicks, no tiny feet,
Just happy squeaks on my favorite seat!
Their nesting instincts, oh so sweet,
While my behind enjoys a treat.
They’re choosing names, all soft and mild,
My chosen position gets them wild!
So let them coo at tiny socks,
My kind of “pushing” really rocks!
No midnight feeds, no lullabies,
Just happy moans beneath the skies.
They’ll soon be experts, day and night,
At baby burps and tiny frights.
While I’ll be showing off my… skill,
Up the ol’ chocolatey thrill!
So raise a glass, let laughter ring,
For different joys that life can bring.
They’ll have their strollers, soft and wide,
And I’ll have… well, a happy backside!
