No Added Pressure HERE, TYVM

As you may recall, Wifey recently dropped the thought that she would like to start trying to have a child soon. Granted she told me in the middle of the night while lying in bed all but asleep, but still, communication is the key. And lately she has been oohing and aahing and generally cooing and making squeaky dolphin noises whenever anything remotely cute comes across her path. The pictures of kittens and puppies she got in her inbox the other day caused MUCH consternation as she squeaked and squealed and made dogs all over the neighborhood bark. She has actually put a picture of the Boob Thief up as her wallpaper at work. And God forbid she sees one of those old Michelin commercials. I might never get her back from one of those.

I am waiting for the day I come home to a wall full of those baby pictures by that one female photographer who always puts them in costumes and backgrounds so sickeningly sweet that I need a shot of insulin when I look at them. And yes, my sister has 4 or 5 of them in the half-bathroom in her house. Just what I need as I take a leak, babies in costumes that make their faces look like the middle of a sunflower staring at me. Makes it crawl back up every time.

Well, the guy who was the Best Man at my wedding and his wife are expecting any day now. He called me last night, but I didn't have an opportunity to call him back. I will strive for that tonight. And now I find out that good ol' Fineous Reese (he of the inverted blog to your right) and his lovely wife are also going to be Mommy and Daddy (not necessarily in that order). I find this out from Larry the Upstairs Neighbor who tells me the info (along with the knowledge that someone we both know is engaged. The fact that EVERY SINGLE PERSON he has told the news of the engagement to that knows this person has said "wait, he's not gay?" or has somehow referenced that his betrothed will make an excellent beard. So let's see how THAT plays out) last night. So I clicked on Fineous' blog and lo and behold, it is the big announcement. And there is even a public apology to me for me having to hear about it online instead of from him. So let me say this Mr. Reese, apology accepted, but completely unnecessary. Just name your first borne after me and all will be forgiven. BSR Reese has a nice ring to it, does it not?

Even if he chooses not to appease my most simple request, he is still forgiven. After all, he is a bud. And you don't stay friends for 16 years (ye GODS!) without being able to forgive something as simple as this. Or as simple as me. Hey Fin, call me.

Now to the task at hand. There is one major problem with all my friends (or their respective spouses) getting knocked up like rabbits in March. It opens a whole new category of people entering into the "when are you two going to have a kid" arena. Random requests from in-laws and outlaws and blood kin and so forth were tolerable, since we don't see most of them that much. But now that my friends are popping out heirs I am starting to really feel pressure to seed the field. To plant some crops. To put a bun in the oven. In other words, to knock up my wife.

Maybe if she promises to pose for pictures like Demi Moore did in Vanity Fair (or whatever damn magazine it was), I would feel a little better about the whole thing.

BSR