Daddy's Coming Honey!

How We Found Out

It’s 4:00 in the morning. I wake up with Carrie beside me. We’ve been married over three years. She’s just as beautiful as ever. But because it’s 4am I want to shove that pretty face out of my sight. Then come the words:
“Honey. I’m pregnant.”
Everyone loves a good joke. Not before the sun comes up.
So I go to the bathroom and check. Three pregnancy tests lie before me. Count ’em: Three. All affirmative. Not with the blue stripe that may or may not mean ‘pregnant’ depending on whether or not it is accompanied by a pink stripe or another blue stripe. The actual word is spelled out:
This is for real.

How her parents find out:
We found out on Thursday morning. On Friday we drive three and a half hours to Spruce Pine, NC (home of the perfect Christmas Tree) and break into her parents’ house, addressing them as “Grandma” and “Grandpa”. Grandma leaped in place and sucked Carrie into her arms from four feet away. Grandpa giggled like a schoolgirl.

How my parents found out:
Carrie takes another test in the bathroom at Kroger. Any trashier and she’d have a pillbox on her keychain. We take it to my family’s house. Somehow my dad succumbed to pregdar (preg. radar—he has been known to predict future events ever since the family cruise when he prophesied my gallstones) and asked if we were pregnant since we didn’t wait until Sunday to deliver the rent check to our landlords who went to church with them. We pretend he said nothing.
My mother is planning a bible class: “Prescriptions for Godly living.” She shows us a basket of empty pill bottles with memory verses. “Hey, mom. I got an idea. You can also use this.” In go the pregnancy test and bottle of prenatal vitamins. They don’t believe me.

My family has a history of not believing me. Speaking of which, it took my brother ten minutes to believe me. I called him Uncle, asked him what his plans were for 8 months from now, said I was eating for two. He finally told me to stop. “Luke,” I said, “would I be wasting ten minutes telling you all this if I was joking?” I would, and he was right. So then I said, “but Luke, would I be giggling like a five-year-old if I was joking?” This was the moment of truth for Luke Guard. Welcome to Unclehood, ol’ boy.

And of course, here’s how the rest of you probably found out:

Stay tuned. We’re a couple months in and he or she is the size of a raspberry.
I’m sorry. This just in: He or she is between the size of a large raspberry and a medium green olive.


Trackbacks & Pingbacks


  1. * Laura says:

    The movie Rock-a-Doodle explores the relationship between the rooster and the sun rising.

    | Reply Posted 7 years, 8 months ago
  2. * Lisa L says:

    Caleb!! You make me laugh. 🙂 Can’t wait to meet your little raspberry! (Probably a strawberry by now)

    | Reply Posted 7 years, 8 months ago

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