PRISCILLA Eatwell is a 56-year-old granny who's decided she wants to have a bay-bee. Her husband, Don is 69 and Priscilla, who works in Bournemouth, already has two daughters and a grandchild from her first marriage.
As she and Don conceived another child by IVF 13 years ago they're not exactly unblessed with children.
But none of this appears to be good enough for her.
Priscilla wants to find an egg donor so that she and Don can have a second child. Even though they've been turned down for the treatment in Britain because of her age and the health risks.
But now some Italian medic has agreed to perform the deed, provided Priscilla can persuade another woman to hand over her eggs in time. All together now... arrrgghhhh!
"I'm really in a hurry to find a known donor," says Priscilla.
"My time is running out and if a donor doesn't come forward, it will be too late."
If a suitable donor didn't come forward, it would be a very good thing.
It would spare baby Eatwell the excruciating embarrassment that will come with having parents the same age as its friends' great-grandparents.
It would spare it the misery that comes with having a parent die on you when you are only a teen. Or having to turn carer for a pair of old codgers when everyone else is out clubbing it.
It would also spare Priscilla's body the enormous strain of carrying a baby that Mother Nature didn't intend her to conceive.
Has she seriously considered any of this? On the published evidence, it would appear not.
"I just desperately would love another child and all the joy it brings. I think about it all the time," she trills.
What is wrong with her? I could understand if she was a childless woman whose cancer treatment had destroyed her ovaries. Or a would-be mum who has suffered an early menopause.
But, like Liz Buttle, the hill farmer who conceived a baby at the age of 60 for her own amusement, Priscilla Eatwell already has kids. Three of them.
Now, in her ridiculous quest to get someone to make her latest whim come true, she's simply being greedy.
She reminds me of those spoilt five-year-olds who have 10 Barbies. But they still stamp and scream for just one more.
Priscilla Eatwell doesn't need a baby. She needs help.
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