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like today. like in 3 hours and 22 minutes.

gotta goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Remember. Anything.

I remember when Jules was preggo with our son, I would ask her to remind me to do something random like locking the front door or taking out the trash and she would completely forget. I called these brain farts her “pregnancy stupids” and they seemed to evaporate as soon as the lil guy escaped from her magic vag of magicness.

I completely forgot about the “pregnancy stupids” until Julie was about 15 weeks pregnant. She wasn’t really showing much besides the mountainous mountains atop her chest, but she was forgetting everything. Mortgage, car payments, bills, to flush, to wipe, to eat, to slow down at stop signs… She was out of control.

I remember the fourth time I caught her not flushing and I almost went and grabbed her by the neck, stuck her face in it and with a stern look and a pointed finger said “NO! BAD PREGGO!” – But I didn’t, I just took a picture of it, printed it out and affixed it inside every cabinet door we have, and sent a few to her sister to place around her house before Thanksgiving.

As for wiping, you have no idea how painful it is to put the shuttle in reverse (yeah, it’s a minivan, so what? I call it the shuttle to make myself feel cooler ok?) and she says “Wait hold on.” So I pull back into the driveway and she hops (now it’s more like oozes) out of the shuttle and traipses into the house gaily. When she returns I ask what she forgot. “To wipe.” She says. *SILENCE*

I try my hardest to hold back the giggles, she realizes this as a “PHHT” escapes the corner of my mouth and THWAP! Suddenly my arm is numb and she’s giving me the look like the long haired young broad in the dirty white robe in The Ring.

So my wife forgets alot of shit now that she’s preggo as a preggo can be. Think she’ll forget I posted about her forgetting to wipe?

Nope.

Regardless of my sleeping on the couch these next few weeks, her forgetfulness is starting to increase so much, I’m worried about what she does in the shower. Does she enter in there and then think to herself “What did I come in here for?”

Does she lay down in bed only to pop up (slowly of course) and think “What was I going to do in here?”

Does she start cooking dinner, realize TMZ is on and then forget she has perogies on the skillet?

I’m completely concerned for my own well being people! Will she even forget I’m laying next to her in bed and accidentally STEAMROLL me?

Julie, I love you for everything you are and everything you’ve ever forgotten while preggers. I hope you remember who makes  you laugh, cause you sure as shit make me laugh honey bunches of “what did I come in here for?”

We’ve had more ultrasound visits than I care to count. If there was a radiation factor to each scan, I’m pretty sure my wife’s vag would be frickin’ Chernobyl at this point. (Remind me to tell you about the time about the vodka bottle and the Geiger counter. ROWR!)

So far we’ve see Leah the beautiful on many occasions. She is the social uterine-fly we’ve always dreamed of. When the wand sends out its pulses of soundwaves, she waves back. We’ve already contacted three modeling agencies to take pictures while still in the womb and pay us in large amounts of baby swag (read: diapers yo).

Yet, every time we go through the growth scans or quick peeks, the little lady of the vag is all smiles and showing off, while my son Mason has only graced us with clear shots of his ass and coin purse. We have actually seen in real time Mason flip from facing out to completely facing the spine in mere seconds, once the wand is turned on. Maybe he can feel the tepid blue goo squirting onto the bell bell, who knows? We’re beginning to think things are amiss.

Not amiss like something is wrong with him or something dire like that. No.

I’m under the impression that he works for a shadow agency for the American government. He has been commissioned to listen to the mindless chatter of womenfolk who come in contact with my wife. *I’m making the chatty motions with both of my hands.* He must be armed with a device that allows him to process classified military intel at such a high rate that the drivel that the rest of the male population hears spewing forth from the female population is just yadda-yadda-yadda-yadda-and then i says to the gal-yadda-yadda-yadda.

My son is a double agent in a double sac with a double placenta and a 100% chance of being fucking adorable. Armed with his umbilical cord, transparent liquid shit and the ability to barrel roll like a hotdog underwater in a soggy bun, Mason is a man on a mission.

If he isn’t working for the American government, maybe my trip to Russia in 2002 was actually a front and I was receiving robot implants in my seminal vesicles.

YEAH, THAT SOUNDS GOOD.

Having Twins Now: Seminal Vesicle Implants.

You can’t make this shit up people.

So yeah, every time we go to get a shot of the kids in their fetal glory, my lil punk ass kid flips his shit around and moons me!

FINE DUDE! WE’LL JUST KEEP SHOWIN’ PICS OF YOUR SEESTER THAN!

TAKE THAT SECRETIVE LITTLE MAN UP INSIDE MY WIFE’S VAGINA!

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