Posts Tagged ‘United States’

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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Living around Chicago, there are a number of steady facets of life one must accept as the way it is. The following are just a few of the many traits Chicagoland has to offer:

• The entire state road system is constantly under construction, there is no denying the fact that you will be detouring at one point daily.
• The Chicago Cubs, while being my team since I was a fetus, suck.
• You will use your heat and A/C in the same day more than 7 times a year.
• Humidity here can rival Louisiana.
• People from Wisconsin are everywhere. You must either accept them, or ignore them. We ignore them.
• Chicago is the most beautiful city on the planet. I’ve been a lot of places and nothing rivals our skyline or atmosphere.
• Our elected officials can illegally squeeze a nickel out of a peanut.
• We take our sports, and losing, and rarely winning, very seriously.
• Ditka is king, no exceptions.

photo credit: Wallula Junction

I taught my son this valuable lesson very early, and I thought it was important enough, while off the subject of having twins, to document here on our website.

If the embedded player does not work, please click the link below. StupidYouTubes.

My Son, Talking Ditka (YouTube Link)

If there is ever a time in your life where you aren’t sure what direction you should be heading, take the road that Ditka would travel.

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Yea yea yea, I forgot to tell you about the HTN twitter account name. I’m an idiot.

Our Twitter account is http://twitter.com/havingtwinsnow

At any given time, myself, Julie or our 20 month old son could be spouting awesomeness, although I can pretty much assure you it’ll be me most of the time. Julie has only gone so far as to join Facebook to play bejeweled.

She loves that damn game.

TWEET AWAY TWEETERS.