One Week

Ahhh, the things you find when you are cleaning out closets to make room for the coming child. I had a sudden momentary vision of how-do-you-handle-when-your-kid-finds-the-porn-stash:

Anwen: Daddy, what's that?

Me: Uh, that's called a vagina. When mommy was pregnant with you, that is where you came from. Of course, at the time, mommy did not have another woman trying to put anything in there. Tell you what, why don't you ask mom about this stuff tonight, okay? Now give Dad a minute to die of embarassment, alright honey?

Holy Shit. In one week they will induce Laura and I will be a dad. This is entirely wrong. First off, I have not even gotten my dad license yet. I mean, hell, if the kid arrives and I don't have that, then it's goodbye kid, right? What do you mean no? They can't trust me with this thing! I don't want it!

This is just such an overwhelmingly bad idea. I don't even have words to describe how I feel about it. I will be a very bad daddy. I'm not actually meant to be a father. I always said I would not reproduce...

This is just awful.

Couldn't I just take a biblical solution, put the kid in a raft and send it down the Trinity river in downtown Dallas? Surely someone who actually wants a kid would find her. If it's anything like the Bible she would be fished out of the river by Ross Perot's daughter. Then she can free her people from corporate slavery!

Oh, Goddess I am suddenly very, very scared, this is just all too real...