Overshare

Like a lot of people I know, I use Twitter and Facebook. Looking at the first twenty posts on each site tells me what people are eating for dinner tonight, how their day at work panned out and which songs they're listening to. They also include things that are more relevant to others, like delays to public transport and links to local news articles. That's normal, right? Anyone who uses social networking knows that the things people post are a mash-up of opinions, information and personal stuff (and a lot of bad puns and deliberately offensive comments). So why is it such a massive issue when people mention parenthood?

At least once a week I see a Tweet or a Facebook status from someone moaning about how boring it is when people talk about babies, or how annoying it is when people talk about being pregnant, or how lame it is when people announce their pregnancies online. The people who post these things are usually people whose previous and subsequent updates are about someone who walked slowly in front of them earlier or what they're about to order at the bar, which makes it really hard to understand all the scathing remarks about those who choose to talk about their offspring.

Of course, what these people say is correct; getting pregnant and giving birth and raising a child isn't really that impressive in the grand scheme of things. Hundreds of thousands of people give birth or look after their children or have sex every day, so it's not like anyone's doing anything unique or impressive. But it doesn't really matter that others have done it before. Even if it's the most natural and normal thing in the world, having a child is always going to be a life-changing event, whether you're a first time parent or not.

What's the Worst That Could Happen?

I spent most of this weekend cooking. Along with the usual lunches and dinners and the Sunday roast, I cooked a meal to sustain the men while they battled on Fifa 2011 and I cooked a lot of treats to eat over Christmas. And it made me sad (and a little bit angry) that there are people who wouldn't even be willing to taste the things I made.

I'm a good cook and I see no reason to be humble about that fact. I shun ready-meals so I cook all of my family's meals from scratch every day - there are few skills that wouldn't improve with that much practice. The reason some people wouldn't touch the food I've made isn't because it's bad food, it's because it's unfamiliar food. There were flavour combinations you don't often see, there were spices people don't often use and there were a lot of fresh vegetables. Those things sound interesting and appetising to me, but some people simply can't bring themselves to step out of their food comfort-zone.

I can't think of anything I'd flat-out refuse to eat. This is probably a family trait - my grandfather's rule was that nobody was allowed to say they didn't like something or that they wouldn't eat it until they'd finished a portion three times. But I can just about accept that some people don't like some foods. I'm not fond of licorice and I say I don't like burgers and chips from fast-food outlets (though it would probably be more truthful to say I'm ambivalent about them - while I woudn't usually choose to visit a McDonald's, I've been known to have a drunken craving for bland, unsatisfying fried stuff). But neither of those things are going to affect the meals I cook at home or order in restaurants.

Dear Boots Thief,

I know it's unlikely that you'll see this, but you never know; maybe you'll be interested in looking up the person you stole from. You do, after all, know my name because you're in possession of my Advantage Card. My Advantage Card, not your Advantage Card.

I'm sure you'll be disappointed to discover that you've only got £2.79 to spend with it, but bear in mind that with 4 points to a pound, I had to spend £70 to earn that so I'm actually pretty disappointed myself.

But the Advantage Card isn't the issue, is it? We both know that the real reason I'm upset is that you took my money. My money, not your money.