These are the ramblings of an expectant father. Feel for him.
The wife's issues become my issues.
She can't sleep, I can't sleep. Actually she won't LET me sleep--story for another time. She wants ice cream, I suddenly want ice cream. She can't find any good maternity clothes and I'm up all night cross-stitching a nice pleated skirt and...kidding.... I haven't knitted since the accident of '98. Don't ask it's much too painful.
"We should open a maternity store. There is crap in this area" she muttered on the car ride to our seventh stop of the day. "And all the clothes they have are awful."
You'd think this would be a massive market considering the celeb obsession with being pregnant. Is there a celebrity not talking about having a kid, being pregnant, or finding some random child to adopt? I imagined there was a maternity store in every mall in America but I never really paid attention. Now that we are looking for store; nada. I'm sure there are probably overpriced boutiques in major cities and online mega mommy malls but where does “Susie in the Sticks” go to get a comfortable pair of pants?
Also, where can I get a good pair of maternity pants for men? Chubby Hubby isn't just a flavor anymore, it's a lifestyle.
Just this morning, for no particular reason, I woke up thinking about London. I've never been to London. I've only seen it’s sights on television. I never in my life ever entertained the idea of taking a trip there until just this morning. I don't even like to travel. I don't know me anymore. I kind of miss me but this new me is rather interesting.
I was staring up at the ceiling wondering if the wife would be into a trip to the...what's London's nickname? Every city has a nickname. The City of Lights, The City of Brotherly Love, the Big Apple, the "don't go there if you want to live city" or Camden as it's known to locals. Anyway, I want to go to London. Soon.
I rolled over to breach the subject and spotted the baby bump.
Being an expectant parent really puts a damper on the daydreams. I'm sure Ocean City is also a lovely place to visit.
Wife: "The cat looks lonely. Maybe we should consider getting him a friend."
Me: "We will."
Wife: "Really? A kitten?"
Me: "No. A baby."
Wife: "You suck."
I love kids. This will come in handy as a father. Recently, I've been more observant of their behaviors. Watching. Noting. Cringing.
Before I thought everything children did was hysterical and wonderful, mostly because they weren't my kids. I could go home and leave them to the minding of the pair that spawned such a terrible little monster.
Let's go over the field notes from a recent trip to the optical shop.
An adorable little girl was waiting for her mom to buy ridiculous looking and overpriced glasses. She had a whistle. She loved that whistle. She blew and blew. Blew and blew. Blew.
You'd think she would have grown tired of the sound after a few minutes.
Does her mom even notice? Has she become comfortably dumb?. I mean, numb? Will I get to that level of just not giving a crap what my kid does so long as he or she is happy and out of my hair for a couple minutes?
That little musician might still be blowing, I am not sure because I left the store to find a whistle of my own.
Two can play at this incredibly loud game.Chris Illuminati is an author, blogger, and delightfully clueless. You can read all about him at chrisilluminati.com.