
Given that I'd been living in a house with three females, most of our friends and family had been hoping for a boy, for me, they said. It was an assumption pretty much everyone was completely comfortable in making:
"I bet you're hoping for a boy!"
I'd smile and chuckle and say, "Yeah. Or a girl. I don't really care."
"Yeah, you gotta say that, I know, but come on, deep down inside you're hoping for a boy, aren't you?"
"It's my first kid. I just want the kid. Don't much care what it's sex is."
"Whatever, dude. I know."
Even Julie kept asking me if I had a preference. I'd say no.
"Whatever, dude. I know."
But standing in the ultrasound room, watching the sonographer squirt the KY Jellyish goop on Julie's belly, I started wondering myself. Did I have a preference? In spite of all my insistence to the contrary, was I secretly hoping for boy? A mini me? A little man I could take fishing and to hockey games; play catch with a buy a little set of tools for; teach to play the guitar and advise on the ways of the opposite sex?
No. Because I could do all that stuff with a girl, too. A little girl. A daughter. A mini girly me. I could get used to that. I was already in a house with three women. I grew up with my mom and two sisters. I had some experience with this. Girls are easier. They don't start breaking stuff the minute they can walk. They don't turn everything into a gun. They don't kick and hit and spit. "You know what?" I thought. "I do have a preference. I want a girl! Come on, sonographer! Show me a vagina!
"I see something sticking out there!"
It was pretty quiet in the room then. No exclamations, no "Whup, dere it is!" or anything like that. I kept looking at the image. The unmistakable shape of boy parts sticking out from the unmistakable shape of my son. I looked around the room. Everyone was looking at me, smiles of curiosity on their faces. I looked at Julie, who was still looking at the screen.
"I can't believe it's a boy," she said. "I don't know how to raise boys. Just girls."
I looked back at the screen, then back to Julie. I smiled a smile that pushed the boundaries of my face.
"You just leave it me. I got a few ideas."
Monkey's due May 6.
READ HALOSCAN COMMENTS.
*Thanks to Maddie for the name. Monkey rocks.
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