and the lord sayeth... (toot)

Technically... my beautiful wife, Drakey, could be pregnant right now. Well... at least in the process of BECOMING pregnant. We did it al-naturale this time by simply peeing on some sticks and forgoing the ultrasounds and shots and what-not. And her "fern day" conveniently occurred AFTER we returned from our D.C. trip (thank the baby jesus) and even more conveniently, fell on a Saturday, which is always preferable.

It went remarkably smoothly. We had a moment of near cardiac arrest when the usher to our baby-making room announced that a nurse practitioner would be joining our tawdry twosome shortly, but it turned out that Dr. Evil is not the only NP at the clinic. The new NP, who we shall call "She Who is Not the Epitome of Evil Because that Spot is Already Taken," got Drakey all harnessed up. After inserting the spreaders she asked Drake whether she had ever given birth or otherwise had a procedure done on her cervix. Apparently her cervix was open to an abnormally great extent. Well, anyone who knows Drake is well aware that she has not made it a practice of squirting living beings out of her nether regions. And isn't it just plain rude to talk about one's possible liposuction, collagen shots and cervical "procedures"? Drakey did spend an awful lot of time living in L.A. Well, perhaps this just means that the child will squirt out like a hot knife through butter.

"She Who is Not the Epitome of Evil Because that Spot is Already Taken" had a spot of trouble trying to get the catheter into Drakey's uterus because in addition to having a gaping black hole in her cervix, she also has a "double curve". She kept pushing on Drakey's lower abdomen in her efforts to get the tube properly inserted thus eliciting a number of breathy grunts. "She Who is Not the Epitome of Evil Because that Spot is Already Taken" was concerned that she was puncturing Drakey's insides, but it turns out that Drakey only needed to pee; badly. As did I. Then it was all over and we proceeded to wait out the obligatory 15 minutes with hips raised. Par for the course for us, we spent that time engaged in deeply philosophical discourse.

Drake: You're doing the pee dance and it's making me crazy. I can't look at you (turning head sharply away from me).

Erin Rae: Fine. I'll stop doing the pee dance. See. Totally still. Now look at me in the face and do it like you love it.

Drake: (turning head back around cautiously) NOW YOUR FACE IS DOING THE PEE DANCE!

Erin Rae: How on earth can my FACE do the pee dance??

Drake: It IS, I swear. Your cheeks are all twitching and quivering and stuff. Your FACE is doing the PEE DANCE! (erupt in belly laughs).

I then ended all belly laughing conversations as I typically do - with a loud, pronunced fart.

Drake: Do you know that when our child asks us about his/her moment of conception we can talk about the magic of Mama's face doing a pee dance. Then finish with "And then the Lord sayeth that Mama farted. That is the endeth, that's all I'm sayingeth."