I think the baby's finally coming.

Another birthday (tomorrow), and I am another year older. It's funny how much things change in the course of a year, but I must admit that I had rather hoped that the child would be here by now. Another year passed, and I still don't know if Prior will remember the date; he isn't exactly known to remember these kinds of things. And my due date is quickly approaching-- the healers have estimated the 21st, so I'm really hoping that they are correct. I'm tired of being fat and clumsy and I want that baby out of me. I'm not graceful. I can't wear the clothes that I want to. I'm a mess and there are all of these social events and I just want to wear pretty dresses and dance all evening and do all of the things that I used to do.

I feel as though should be happier than this.

I feel as though I must ask- do you think you're we are ready? I mean, I know the house is as prepared as can be, and that you and I-

Well, we get along well enough, don't we? And our marriage- things aren't so very terrible, are they? Sometimes I'm not so very sure if-

..We can do this, can't we?

Darling, do you think we might be able to dine out some time soon? Provided, of course, that you do not find yourself embarrassed to be seen with me Or perhaps a trip to the bookstore and lunch together?

Aunt, I'm worried for Barty. He's just informed me that Druella Black is trying to play matchmaker for him, and as you know it is none of her business. I wish to help, but am not nearly as skilled at these kinds of games as perhaps I should be. Either way, it seems entirely inappropriate for her to be interfering with our dear Barty in this manner, especially when Barty has no romantic interest in the girl she is insisting upon. Do you think there is any way that we could politely ask her to refrain from further intervention?