Bun in the Oven

Tomorrow evening I return to Lubbock so that I can take my wife to her doctor's appointment on Thursday. They tell us we should know whether it will be a Baby Girl Misery or a Baby Boy Misery . . .

I have to miss a Texas Hold 'em Tournament as a result. I tried to convince my wife that we'll have another child and I'll be there the next time we find out the sex of the child . . .

But she didn't quite buy it. I guess this is really important, or something . . .

I mean, I'll have to have the doctor explain what all of those squiggly lines on the screen are anyways, right?

So I'll miss winning enough money to keep Baby Misery in diapers for an entire year . . . so's I can nod my head and pretend I know what the hell the doc is pointing to . . .

Fatherhood.