No Need to Worry...

Well, the wedding came and went. And, though I'd planned on only telling people when they asked, I could not contain myself. So, pretty much anytime I saw someone, I'd just tell them my wife was pregnant. At times, it probably even seemed inappropriate; the conversation went something like: "Hey, good to see you, my wife is pregnant." Or, "Hey you person I've not seen since high school, my wife is pregnant."

What's more, I can't seem to figure out if this is a result of excitement, disbelief, or sheer paranoia. Indeed, when people ask, I say I'm excited. But, I'd be lying if I didn't say, at least, a part of me is incredibly freaked out.

Perhaps part of the problem is that I tend to be, at least somewhat of, a control freak. And herein is the problem. This is something which I can't control at all. For one thing, I'm about 5 foot nothing and am bow-legged. These are not, exactly, traits I want to pass onto my child. Furthermore, my dad is average height and my mom does not even break 4'11" [she's so cute]. So, it's pretty clear that my genes tend to contain the tininess factor.

My wife's genes, on the other hand, are more variable. Though she, herself, is not much taller than myself, she has a brother who is probably about 9 feet--and skinny as a rail. Worse, I think he can beat my up.

All this is to say that I don't want to get beat up by my child. The good news is that, I didn't interrupt anyone's wedding by being so flagrant with the baby news. In fact, the wedding went off without a hitch...or I guess it went on with a "hitch." Of course, I don't think I actually told the bride. That may be why.