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And baby makes five

October 22, 2009 - Troy Banning

Yes, it’s official. After keeping my trap shut for more than a few weeks per the boss’s orders (also known as my wife, Kelly), yours truly is proud to announce today that I am going to be a father for the second time.

            With our 3-year-old daughter Taylor on the verge of entering preschool, Kelly thought now would be the perfect time to expand our little family. And who was I to argue?

            We heard the heartbeat for the first time on Wednesday and I’ve got to tell you, it sounded like a boy to me! I’m pleading, baby gods — bring me a boy this time around. I would never trade daddy’s little girl for anything, but I’ve got enough females in my house. And I’m already having nightmares of the first time some smug punk comes knocking on my door to take Taylor out on a date, so having to worry about another daughter may be more than my ticker can take.

            Which brings me to the point of my ranting: The sex of the baby.

            Seriously, I could care less if it’s a boy or a girl as long as it’s healthy. But I’ve got to know before it comes into this world kicking and screaming and demanding $20.

            In short, I want to find out the sex. Kelly doesn’t. So, how do we decide?

            And women, I’m sorry, but you don’t have the final say in this! You can’t play the “I’m pregnant and you better do exactly what I say” card on every disagreement, and this is one debate where I’m not letting Kelly off the hook.

            Taylor was a surprise and it was great, even better than finding out that Tyler Durden wasn’t real at the end of Fight Club. But one surprise is more than enough for me.

            I’m practical, folks. If we’re having a boy, then I want to be able to get the nursery all prepared for Little Troy (I’ve already got the Dallas Cowboys’ paint and Fatheads of Emmitt Smith and Troy Aikman picked out). And if it’s another girl, then I want to be able to get all of our baby clothes out of storage, get them cleaned and ready for the newbie.

            And then there’s Kelly. She insists that Taylor’s birth wouldn’t have been as special had we known she was a girl beforehand, and my response to her was: “Well, how do you know?”

            I let Kelly have her way the first time. So isn’t it only fair that I call the shots (at least one of them) this time around?

            What Kelly won’t admit is that there are a lot of things we need to do before the new addition arrives. Furniture needs to be moved or sold or both. Bedrooms need to shift, which means we’ll be favored customers at our local paint store. But if we don’t know what the sex of the baby is, then all of that is put on hold until after we’ve got a full house.

            I’d rather sit through a Beaches/Steel Magnolias/Terms of Endearment triple-feature.

            So come on, folks, help me out here. What can I do to bring Kelly over to the dark side?

            Oh, one last thing. In case you’re, the title is not a typo. This will be the fifth member of our family.

            What, you thought I would leave out my beloved dog Hawkeye? Shameful!


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