People keep giving me advice. Most of it is things like, "your life will now suck." No one who currently has a young baby has said that. Mostly it's come from people who's kids are grown.
I want to go to these grown children and say, "Hey, your parents really resent you. You must have been an awful child."
But I haven't done it yet. I'm too nice a guy.
I'm looking forward too fatherhood. I'm utterly terrified but in a, 'hmmmm I wonder how this will turn out' sort of way.
It's not like I could do anything about it anyway. The baby is due in February. Doctors don't do a whole lot to lessen the night terrors. We go in once a month. They show us a video on a computer screen. They say things like, "there's the elbows. And there are the feet. See, its hands are in front of its face."
My wife and I can't decode these videos. We couldn't decode these videos with all the equipment in Radioshack. In the first video the baby looked like a peanut with a heartbeat. In the second it was bigger but just as weird looking.
"I don't think we're having a baby I think we're having a gelatinous blob," I said after a recent visit.
She agreed.
I'm a little worried my future baby will have gelatinous blob-like mutant powers and that I will have to send him or her to a school for gifted youngsters run by a bald-headed New Yorker who can read minds but couldn't see that his best friend was about to shoot him in the spine.
That or a boy. I'd like a boy.
