Originally written on July 30, 2009
I decided to pop the question.
He didn’t know it yet but my poor helpless boyfriend was about to be attacked by his knocked up wife. He’s like one of those poor motorists on the side of a mountain. Driving down a curvy road. He knows there is danger. He knows that the low shoulder may cause his car to drift off the cliff. But the views? Oh the views are spectacular. Especially the one of him buried alive underneath 15 million tons of rubble. That is what is about to happen people. An avalanche of hormones, afterbirth and poopie diapers are about to crush my poor husband. my poor boyfriend. my friend.
With a bazillion mental pictures of my helpless mate crushed under the weight of this announcement, I decided to take one more test.
Maybe the first three were wrong.
Maybe that expensive brand just gives false positives. Maybe those money hungry pregnancy test makers just wanna freak you out so that you will buy more to ensure that indeed there is a dinosaur growing in your hootch. I need the cheap brand. The cheap brand test is what I should have bought in the first place. The cheap brand never lies.
(enter cheap brand peeing here)
Dang cheap brand. They must be in cahoots with the expensive brand.
Ok – so I guess that means that I must tell him. The slideshow is ready. The lie has been planted. (I previously told my boyfriend that I made him a slideshow for our anniversary which is over two months away). Now. it. is. go. time.
I completely lied to get him to sit down with me and watch the little ditty called “50 questions”. It is 50 black and white photos of me and him with questions that pop up – questions that are meaningful to the both of us. Questions that make us laugh. Questions that were important. Questions that are totally inside jokes. And the last one…the last one is a picture of me with a positive test…and the question says…
“Will you be my baby-daddy?”