And it was all about babies

I was having tea with an acquaintance I made recently, and we were in what turned out to be the final stage of finding if we had all the necessary qualities in common.

“So, do you have a baby?” she asked me.
“No”, I responded picking up a samosa.
“When are you thinking of having one?”
“Haven’t really thought about it,” I responded, eyeing my small samosa despondently.
“Excuse me!” she cried. Startled, I dropped my samosa.
“What is it?” I enquired.

“How can you say you’re not thinking of having a baby?”
“Well, I like, haven’t really thought about it.”
“How can you say you haven’t thought about it?” I trembled as her voice rose. We were in a public place. The potential for embarrassment was unlimited.
“What is your plan to prove to the world that you are productive?”
“What is my--?”

“Eh?” She challenged. “Do you think your parents gave birth to you just so you could spend all your money on yourself?”
“What money? I cannot afford to have a baby!”
“How can you say you cannot afford to have a baby?”
“The price of Pampers tells me I can’t afford to have a baby”.
“You’re so selfish” she announced.
“How now?”

“Whatever little money you make, you should be sharing with your baby.”
“Whose baby now?”
“The one you should plan on having.”
“Haha.”
“You’re only laughing because you are still young,” she sneered.
“Wow!” I grinned. “Thanks! Not many people would tell a 30-year- old woman that she still has time.”

Her chair rocked on its foundations.
“You’re 30?” She gasped.
“Yes.” I set my chin defiantly. “I’m, in fact, 30 years old”.
“I’m 24 and I already have a baby. I’ve proven that I’m productive”. Her eyes glowed with pride. “When are you going to get your act together?”
I yawned.
“Well, at least tell me you intend to get married”.
Oh, bother.