Monday, October 31, 2011

The Men in Brown and other true facts about childbirth

 
Whenever you hear about a woman giving birth you hear about how long it took, the time of birth, the weight of the baby, etc, etc, but there is one key piece of info that's always left out and I think it's weird because to me it's probably the most important detail. 

Did she shit? 

Did she push a doodoo out?  Did they have to clean up a turtle head before your son's head could come out? 

At least let me know the fart count.  I need it for the baby book.  I'm going to scratch out that 'first word' bullshit.

Because they say it's common, which is what they say when something is super embarrassing and probably not that common, like whiskey dick or having red hair and a lot of freckles. 

But that's one stat that doesn't really make the record books you know?  And I have a couple theories as to why not. 

The first is that the couples sign a blood oath like I Know What You Did Last Summer, they smear the feces on a wooden board and throw it in the ocean, then when the guy gets drunk and tells his dumb buddies she starts stalking them with a fish hook.

But more realistically, I think there's a secret organization, whether it be government run or private sector I don't know, but I'm sure there are Men in Black type guys that come in, throw the sheets into that soiled linens receptacle, and neuralize the room right before the doctor catches the baby, the Men in Brown, instead of suits and sunglasses they wear hazmat gear and welder's helmets to avoid unwanted spatter.  Then they shine the bright light and say congratulations and you hear a pop and think they're from the insurance company or something.

I'm gonna be up front though.  My wife didn't poo.  If she did I would tell you, I promise.  Sure the labor was tough, she was straining but she managed to keep it clean, everything went great.  She ripped a couple mean ones but that's your average Tuesday. 

Wait, I mean, I don't think she did, now that I'm specifically trying to remember it's a little bit cloudy though.  I must have been caught up in all the emotion of my first born.  We even got a nice picture taken by a younger African American gentleman and his older white partner from the insurance company...

I don't know why they were wearing those coveralls.

Another thing, I think this practice is now antiquated, but I believe the doctor used to tell the women to give themselves an enema before coming to the hospital...  An enema?  Are they preparing for the most magical day of their life and bringing a child into the world or getting ready for a gangbang?  Come on, doc.

Friday, October 28, 2011

Baby Swag

This is my son's outfit:


How is he so much cooler than me already?  And where can I get some adult sized pants with duck face feet?

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Nocturnal E-Mission Statement


There's a lot of "Mommy Blogs" (probably, I didn't do too much research) by moms who decided to start up a blog to gush about how precious and special their little Bella or Edward is, and "Daddy Blogs" where the dad who is in touch with his sensitive side writes poetry about how his special child has made him a better man. 

This is not one of those blogs.

I'm a writer who happens to have impregnated his wife (I mean, we planned it, C-Babe isn't an accident). 

C-Babe is my unborn son, my (fake) name is Patrick L. Huber, and my wife's alias will be Mrs. L. Huber.  Mrs. L. Huber is an elementary school teacher, she's young and hot and the dads try to hit on her but I have that shit locked down (especially now that I put my seed into her).  I am a screenwriter who has had some things produced so I'm only a percentage as desperate as most self described "screenwriters" (speaking of terrible blogs).

My goal for this blog is to talk candidly about pregnancy and fatherhood in a humorous way (and get a book deal).  This blog will contain very little to no factual information and any advice given will be mostly for joke's sake.

So if you're a dad who's pretty young and wants to whine about their pregnant wife not giving it up when she's bloated on prescribed bed rest and/or a human who likes things that are funny, this blog might, nay, is definitely, for you my potential friend.

So, let me just start off with a bang, or lack thereof, by giving you my complete, unabridged sexual history.  Age 0 to 17 - meh.  17ish - did alright.  18/19 - met my future wife and we've been together ever since, we got married when we were 23.  I was a late bloomer who got married young but no regrets in that department.  My wife and I have had a healthy sexual appetite and relationship until she got pregnant (or is it we, we got pregnant?).

I only say any of that to set up this factoid, while my wife was pregnant she was repulsed by sex and therefore was not throwing me much of it whatsoever, I had my first and only nocturnal emission thus far as a twenty five year old grown ass man.

Damn.

An Alt title to this post could also be "Nocturnal Admission"...  nice.