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Now you may have NOTICED it before, but I promise that NOTHING humbles you like maternity shopping once did. Thankfully for us now, being pregnant is so ‘Hollywood’ that it’s almost fun to buy the clothes. Gone are the tent-like mumus and the belly panels. Gone are the denim-free faux-jeans that I wore while last gestating

(whimpers: HOW can jeans be DENIM FREE and still called JEANS? I give up).

Hell, if you wanted to, you could easily shop in the maternity stores without being pregnant. Aside from the ‘Baby on Board’ shirts you’d be good to go. A little roomy (perfect for the bar) but damn comfy.

This afternoon, I dragged my loving husband out to get new pants for me. Sounds cruel, I know, but I promise that he had the checkbook in mind when he took me today. I grabbed the pair of pants in my size, he picked me out a shirt, and away we went.

I got home and gleefully pulled my pants on in the privacy of my own bathroom, of course because I happen to look quite like a hippo these days, and was immediately vexed. WHY was I having a hard time pulling my pants on?

The waist fit.

The hips fit.

The calves fit.

Holy shit, these pants are caught up on my ANKLES?

Yes, faithful readers, I had inadvertently bought Skinny Legged maternity jeans.

What nimrod decided that what pregnant women REALLY NEEDED is to wear pants that make them look fatter and more oddly shaped? Sure, they can look good on SOME people, but really? Most pregnant women would look gawky and uncomfortable (not to mention shaped like a hippo in toe shoes) in these.

So now I have to go back to the trendy maternity store and carefully inspect the leg of each and every pair of jeans I can find. Hopefully, they’ve left some jeans with some flair in them.

Otherwise, it’s off to the tailor I go. Grumbling and grousing the whole way.

I know that I’d mentioned before that I totally didn’t care which flavor crotch parasite I was having. And this was true. But what I neglected to mention is that I am totally terrified of having a baby girl.

My experiences with girls have not always been positive. I don’t really want more girlfriends. I have had bad luck with some of those that I have had. My own mother and I have never been on great terms.

I was equally terrified to find out that Ben was a boy, as I was convinced he was a girl, so my intuition is clearly skewed. I imagined that they would break things, have to own trucks and trains, and pee on the seat. Now that mine is 5, I can honestly tell you, ‘Yes, they do.’ But boys are easy, too. There is no drama.

I was stereotyping my crotch parasite before it was born.

The upside to having a girl is that I would cease to be outnumbered (even all the animals but one are male in my house). Even WHEN the men in my family go to Best Buy, play video games or golf, I stood a chance at having someone to go convince me to buy shoes. And clothes. And we could lunch, like ladies and stuff. Girl clothes are freaking adorable, and I knew how much fun I would have buying them. And I could do hair! And makeup! And have someone to be girly with!

I could impart my knowledge of shaving legs and douching with someone WHO MIGHT CARE, unlike the menfolk with whom I currently live.

But this is just going to have to wait…

…because it’s another boy! I am the Queen of the Sausages, officially.

Now where the fuck is my tiara?

Yes, folks, we saw the twig and crackleberries of our newest son yesterday. He looks happy, healthy and totally willing to show us his willie.

Sounds like he’s taking after his father, already.

Oh, and by the by Dave?

That Britney shirt is waiting.

‘Oh my God, LOOK at this! LOOK at my belly! I have FAT ROLLS up to my arm pit. Have you ever SEEN someone with fat rolls there?’

‘No baby. You look FINE.’

‘If you squeeze my belly button, it looks like a butt.’ (simulates farting noises) ‘That’s fucking disgusting.’

‘You’re weird. Seriously, you look FINE!’

‘LOOK at these rolls! WHO gets rolls like that?’ (pokes belly disgustedly)

(sighs) ‘You look wonderful, sweetie.’

‘NO, I DON’T! I look FAT!’

‘If you don’t stop pissing and moaning about it, I’m going to put a moratorium on you walking around without your shirt.’

‘But YOU distracted me from putting it back on. LOOK, I can’t see my belt! EWWWWW!’

‘You know, if all of your friends could see you right now, NO ONE would have any sympathy for you.’

‘Do YOU have any sympathy for me?’ (sniffs dramatically)

Aunt Becky: ‘Dude, I’m pregnant, what do YOU think?’

The Daver: ‘I’m fatter than you and YOU’RE pregnant! LOOK my belly is BIGGER THAN YOURS’

Aunt Becky: ‘You know full well that I’ve lost weight.’

(interrupts) ‘And now you’re skinnier than me!’

Aunt Becky: ‘But I’m going to put it right back on soon.’

The Daver: ‘And I’m STILL gonna be fatter than you!’

(buries head in hands)

Aunt Becky: ‘I cannot believe I’m having this conversation. I suddenly understand men everywhere in a whole new way.’

The Daver: ‘I’m gonna go take a BUBBLE BATH! I’m too upset to deal with you right now.’

(flounces off upstairs.)

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