That's the recurring complaint I heard until recently from my wonderful and patient wife. Well, a few nights ago I had a dream where that was sort of true- everyone was pregnant but me. At least every married lady at the Gathering was pregnant. You'd think that having to share news like that with a dozen other women would somehow dilute the pomp of the whole event, but it wasn't the case. In fact, it seemed to increase the spectacle exponentially, for two pregnant women in particular.
Now I don't know a thing about dream interpretation. While I occasionally have an unsubstantiated sense that my subconscious is trying to tell me something important, most dreams consist of fragments of confused identities and cryptic phrases that mean nothing (this morning I was woken up from a dream in which a mysterious woman was singing an epic ballad about how if you want to win, you have to take a bath. Figures. It's either totally irrelevant, or my brain is telling me that I smell).
So, maybe those of you who are more analytical than I (Isaac, I'm looking in your direction) can tell me if my head is just consumed with all things pregnancy or if that dream needs more deciphering. I'm hoping it simply means that our kid will be surrounded by friends and by people who are as excited as we are that he or she is arriving. Actually, that brings me to another point- Kelsey indicated that we will in fact find out the sex of the baby and will in fact tell all of you. As that's still a few months off, this 'he or she' stuff feels a little awkward and heavy-handed. Thus, to keep things simple from this point until that fateful sonogram, I'll be referring to the baby as Short Round. Hang on, lady. We going for a ride.