I know what you're thinking, "Really?! They're going to trust this motherfucker with a child?!" Well fuck you, I'm going to be a great dad. With that said, you can easily tell that my wife and I are going to have a sense of humor with it. I found out on Tuesday night. And true to form, my wife and I each had a different reaction. She took the test, because she noticed that her body felt different. Her friend told her to pee on the stick, because the friend had a similar sensation when she became preggers. My wife took the test, and her first reaction was, "What the fuck?!"
Now keep in mind, we were not actively trying. We had stopped trying to prevent kids, but we had not said, "Yes, let's have a baby." We just didn't. As a result, my wife assumed that we would have to try for several months before actually getting pregnant. I knew better. I told her that we would get pregnant as soon as we decided to "let it happen". How did I know? Because I don't skip leg day and neither do my swimmers. My boys were on point.
Of course, I found out about the baby later that evening, after my wife and I each got home from our respective jobs/errands. She said she had news, and I assumed it related to a pending business venture. Next thing I know, she is tearing up (happy tears) and says "I'm pregnant". Acting all suave and cool, I said, "No shit?" And just like that, we were having a baby. My wife took the test twice more, just to be certain, and each time it was positive.
So what does this mean? It means that I got 9 months (really 8 months) to get my shit together. It also means that my stories and posts are going to cover a whole new topic. I also have a new subject tag for my stories. Stay tuned, because the next stories are going to look at who we told, how we told them, and all the fucked up shit that runs through our minds as we deal with being adults.
Moral of the Story: I'm a Baby Daddy, and I like it when you call me Big Papa.
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