The Continuing Saga of a Cybermum
My cub reporter days gave me a marked distaste for mother and baby contests, where you were expected to goo-goo over gurgling infants that mostly looked like gremlins. (“So how old is little Jenny?…
(We got a thing goin' on...)
If you were weaned on The Wooden Tops… if you associate Cher with Sonny … if Joni Mitchell makes you misty eyed… never mind. Welcome to Generation…
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