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.