28 July 2011
You don’t know me. Yet. You might, but then again, you probably don’t. You are, after all, currently a concept. You, as a concept, were born when Tori, my wife, peed on a stick and was told our future. This is the second stick she’s peed on in the last three days, and it looks like you may be more than a concept. Since we need to confirm you first, however, you are still a concept. Give us a few days and we’ll give you an update as to your status.
You’re not alone – there are gazillions of concepts out there. There are more concepts than stars in the universe. You just happen to be a concept that scares the shit out of me. And I don’t exaggerate; I don’t mean “Eek! A concept!” I mean more like “Oh, shit! There’s shit all over the place!” That’s how scared you make me.
I have very little else to say at this point, except I honestly don’t know what to think. You’re in a weird little world in my brain right now – there, but not quite there. I know I don’t love you, but only because I don’t know what to love. Maybe that will change. We shall see.
I do wish you good luck in your travels. You may yet get to meet me, and I you. And that might be a nice thing.
30 July 2011
My wife peed on another stick yesterday. Positive again. You are still a concept, but you are beginning to solidify as something a bit more. In three more days I think we’ll know for sure, and by then you’ll no longer be a concept; you’ll be a living fetus.
Given, it’s only been five weeks; you’re about the size of a sesame seed. But I get this nagging feeling that, even if the tests on Tuesday turn out to be negative, you’ll still exist as a concept. I’m not sure how to think about that.
I went out tonight to watch roller derby. It’s one of my favorite sports. It was a fun time; the local teams both won their games. If you evolve from a concept to a person, I definitely want you to fall in love with roller derby like I have. Especially if you’re a girl. If you’re a girl, I want a kick-ass daughter. And roller derby is kick-ass.
As you will probably figure out, I’m not much of a grown-up. I’m a 40-year old teenager. I’ve never been good at being a grown-up, and I hoped I would not have to be tested on that category. I am capable of making grown-up decisions, but it’s not a skill that comes naturally to me. If you can, wish me luck.