If we’re lucky, the kid will have Peggy’s looks, Peggy’s brains, Peggy’s sense of time, Peggy’s ability to make things out of nothing, and my ability to speak in complete verbal sentences. If we’re not lucky, we’ll have a kid that’s exactly like me but talks like Peggy. We’d have no idea anything was wrong until we got blown out of the house by a chemistry experiment gone wrong.
Also, this means that Peggy is no longer going south to do some Katrina relief. Instead she’ll be holed up in the house trying to keep her crackers and bananas down. Also, every stereotype of pregnant women is ABSOLUTELY TRUE. (At least it has been so far. I’ll keep you updated.)
Voice of wife over shoulder: You’re supposed to say when I’m due! Mid-October. And you’re the cute one, not me. Hang on, I have to go to the bathroom.
Voice of wife over shoulder: And every stereotype of pregnant women is not true I think that’s really mean and I’m going to cry, and hit you because you’re so mean, and …. oooh, butterflies! We can paint the nursery with butterflies! Um, just a sec, I have to go to the bathroom again.
Okay, so I made up the part about the butterflies. The point about mood swings is still valid though. Also, does anyone want a cat? I’m now in charge of kitty litter and, um, am looking for ways to lighten the load.
Note to our friends from college: Yes, this means that John Wilson and Peggy Norquist will be having a baby. It’s like matter and anti-matter, really… I keep expecting her womb to explode.