Baby Daddy 25: I Ate The Pie

I told you I have more stories. This one is a simple story. Is it really a Baby Daddy story? I don't know. But it involved my preggers wife, and will have a lasting impact on our future, so fuck it. Why not?
Have you ever done something, and immediately recognized the folly of it? You know what I mean. You do something, and then you have the "oh, shit" moment. Admit it. You have. You can lie and say you haven't, but everyone has. I even wrote a story about this moment, when I was fighting in Krav Maga. You remember? The guy grabbed my shoulder and I immediately knew I was fucked. Well, that happened again.

Let me provide some context. The other day, my wife bought us some pies. No, they were not full-sized. There is a place in town that makes small, personal-sized pies. She wanted coconut cream, and she bought me a peanut butter banana pie. That night, we decided to eat our respective pies. Now, I am willing to bet that most of you can guess where I fucked up.....

That's right, I ate the entirety of my pie. I can already tell that the single men reading this are saying, "what's so wrong with that?". All the men in relationships have their eyes closed, hanging their heads and shaking them side-to-side. And all the women reading this are saying, "You done fucked up."

So let me explain, for those who don't understand. I ate the entirety of my pie. Literally, my only defense is that, according to "serving size", I am a family of four. If I am hungry, I will eat enough food to feed myself and half of Africa. Lions included. I opened that box, saw that peanut buttery goodness, and that motherfucker was gone. I woofed that bitch down in less than a minute. How do I know it was less than a minute? Because that is how long it took for my wife to walk down the stairs, asking to try it.

I looked up - fork in my hand, mouth full, and box empty - and froze. I didn't even blink. My wife's response? "That's okay, don't share any pie with your pregnant wife - the mother of your baby." Cue the guilt. As I apologized, my wife started laughing and thanked me. She said that she now had the first of many things that she will hold over me for the next 50 years. She even went through several scenarios:

Me: "Can you help me with... (literally anything)"
Wife: "Sure, can you leave me a bite of that pie I bought you? Oh wait...."

Child: "Mom, can I have some dessert?"
Wife: "Well you could, but your father ate all the pie."

Me: "I cleaned the litter box."
Wife: "Did you clean it as well as you cleaned the pie-plate?"

Me: "What do you want for (insert meal)?"
Wife: "Not pie."

*30 years from now*
Me: "Can I get you anything?"
Wife: "A bite of that pie I bought you in 2017."

*kids' graduations*
Me: "I remembered the camera."
Wife: "Good. Shame you couldn't remember to let me try the pie I bought you."

*helping our kids with homework*
Child: "I don't understand this problem."
Wife: "You forgot to add Pi into the equation, much like your father forgot to let me try the pie I bought him."

*hugging the cat*
Wife: "PiPi! At least with you I get two 'pi's. Your father didn't even let me taste his one."

*picking out birthday cakes*
Me: "What flavor do you think they'd like?"
Wife: "It doesn't matter, you'll eat it before anyone else get's to try some."

*going to the pie store*
Me: "I bought you a pie, just like the one you bought me."
Wife: "I wonder if it will taste as good as the one I bought you. Oh wait, I'll never know."

*dies*
Tombstone: "Here lies Big Papa Z. He should have left his wife a piece of his pie."

The list just kept fucking going. And I knew I fucked up. As I was taking the final bite, even before my wife said anything, I realized I was fucking up. And it was that moment that my brain disconnected from my body, and just watched with intellectual curiosity, as my body proceeded to be dumb as fuck. I know that, no matter what I eat, my wife will want a bite. I know this. That's how I knew I loved her. She took a bite off my plate, and I didn't take a bite out of her arm. That's love. And yet, when it came to this pie, I reverted to a state of idiocy. I asked my wife how she slept this morning, and she responded that she'd have slept better if she had had some of pie.

Moral of the Story: I'm going to the pie store after work. It won't help. Also, I know my wife is committed to our marriage for at least 50 more years.

Baby Daddy 24: The Not-So-Little Mermaid

I know....I know...I haven't updated this blog lately. What makes it worse? I have been sitting on a story for over a week. Why didn't I post it right away? Because I didn't. Suck it. Anyway, I have stories now. The other day, my wife and I were discussing Disney movies. In particular, we were discussing the Little Mermaid.

Now as you may know, there is a popular debate about mer-people. In particular, the debate stems around reproduction. How do mermaids procreate? If they procreate like people, then they would need to have fish bodies on top and human bodies on bottom. If they had human bodies on top, as Disney portrays, then it begs the question: "How do mermaids procreate?"

Well, ask no more! My wife and I figured it out. Mermaids procreate the same way fish do. Females float their eggs in the water, and males float their seed. This makes sense. It also changes the dynamics of the Little Mermaid, entirely. Talk about no privacy. My wife then discussed with me the fact that literally any fish could interrupt the Little Mermaid while she was being "intimate". Could you imagine that? You're the Little Mermaid, you are ready to procreate, you are getting hot-and-heavy with your merman, and suddenly you look over to see a mackerel or cod just seeding away.

(I don't know what fish this is, but he's a pervert.)

What do you say to that? I mean, it could become a forced (or at least un-willful) impregnation. Would it be considered rape? Who do you even call for that? Coast Guard? You could call Aquaman, but he sucks.

Of course, as my wife and I discussed this - and discussed the now vulgar nature of the Little Mermaid - I suddenly remembered that my folks bought the DVD for our future son. G-d help us if our kids decide to ask how mermaids are born.

Moral of the Story: My wife and I know how mer-people procreate, and fish are perverts. Also, I will never view the Little Mermaid the same way again.

Baby Daddy 23: "Did He Just Move?"

Here is an interesting little tidbit of information. You can feel a baby from outside of the woman's body. Now I know what you are thinking: "Duh, it's called kicking. Stupid." Well fuck you. Yes there's kicking, but there's more. The other night, our son was kicking like a son-of-a-gun. I don't know what his deal was, but he did not like the idea of my wife sleeping. At one point, he straight up bladder kicked her. I haven't seen my wife jump out of bed that quickly in weeks! I can't help but wonder if he doesn't also kidney-punch her from time to time, causing some back ache.

That part is not as important, however, as what happened later in the night. Because our boy was kicking so much, I put my hand on the areas where he was kicking. While we originally thought my son was being an asshole (like his ol' man), we now believe that I have a calming effect on our boy. Anytime he gets fussy, I talk to him and put my hand on my wife's belly. Suddenly the kid calms down and my wife is able to rest. Well, something new happened. That night that the baby was kicking, I put my hand on my wife's belly. I pressed firmly, making sure that he could feel me. The area I was pressing was firm, which I assumed was because my hand was resting against my wife's hip-flexors and lower abdominal muscles.

Then it moved. 

Okay, let's be calm. I asked my wife if she had moved, or if the baby moved. She said she felt the baby start moving away from my hand. I asked if she felt his leg move from where my hand was, and she said yes. HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT! I was not resting against my wife's muscles. I was resting AGAINST MY CHILD"S LEG!!! Do you have any idea how fucking creepy that is?! I couldn't move. My hand was literally frozen in place, trying to comprehend the fact that I TOUCHED MY SON"S LEG! I FELT MY BOY MOVE! And not that bullshit "oh he kicked" move, but a goddamn moving LEG! Being the smooth person that I am, I immediately started to hyperventilate - yelling "holy shit" with each exhale. I thought a nasty cut or scrape would make my butt quiver. My reaction after feeling my son move was on another level. I actually think my tushy quivered to the point that I pulled a muscle.

Moral of the Story: My wife has lost some of her confidence in my readiness to be a father.

Baby Daddy 22: Birthing Class

Ah, yes!!! I finally have another Baby Daddy story. And the topic for today? Shit is getting real! My wife and I just started birthing classes. Now the good thing is that the classes are designed more for me, than they are for her. My wife's job is pretty easy. She goes into labor, goes to the hospital, gets an epidural, and wakes up with a baby. Don't get me wrong, that labor part is going to be hard as shit, but it is a straight forward job. My job, however, is less so. As a partner, I am supposed to provide relief, motivation, support, and strength throughout the process. Now as a personal trainer, I know how to do some of that. In particular, I know how to work with a person and motivate them to push through their perceived boundaries. As a husband, however, I don't know shit about what I am doing.

That is where these classes come in. With the first class, I learned techniques to give my wife relief for back pain. I also learned certain techniques for how to lend support, as she goes into labor. What I also learned is that giving birth will be a very intense experience. I always knew it would be - how else would you expect to push a person out of your body - but I had never seen it. Unfortunately, I can no longer say that. During our first class, we got to see a natural birthing video for a 20-hour labor. Ho-ly Shit. That was a fucking intense show.

First of all, I liked that the video showed the husband taking a short nap. Why? Because there is no way in hell that I am going to be napping while my wife is in labor. Our hospital has a Starbucks in the lobby. The day my son is born, that Starbucks is likely to make $100-200 dollars off of me. I mean, seriously. I'mma crack myself the fuck out on caffeine for this event. My son's first memory of his father is going to be seeing his bloodshot eyes and jittery hands. The nurse may not actually be able to hand me the child. With the amount of coffee I plan to drink, there is a very real concern that my trembling hands would result in my inadvertently shaking the baby. Evidently that's frowned upon?

Something else I learned: while my wife is not supposed to have much solid food, she is allowed to have some. Or rather, science has shown that there is not an issue with her having very small, light snacks to maintain strength. I told my folks about this, and they said they were on it. My mom told me that, while I will have the bag for my wife, they will have the bag for us. They are going to pack cigars and bourbon, and will pick up a rotisserie chicken on the way up. God help the nurse that tries to come between my parents and their attempt to take care of us.

And the final bit that I learned? I am most assuredly going to vomit on my child. That's right. My son's first experiences with me will likely be to see my bloodshot devil-eyes, an earthquake from my caffeine tremors, and then an bile-bath from my puking. Why? Because HAVE YOU FUCKING SEEN A NATURAL BIRTH!?!?! Don't get me wrong, I recognize the natural beauty of childbirth. But even so, holy fucking shit!!! All these people fighting over birth control and contraceptives are fucking dumb. You want to prevent teen pregnancy, show middle school and high schools students a birthing video! I guarantee that they will never look at sex the same way again! Turn off the lights, tell them to watch a video on birth control, and then show a woman in labor push a child out of them.

(Unless you film that shit. In which case, no it fucking doesn't.)

Now I know that my son's birth will be different. One, my wife is going to be doped up worse than the Russian Olympic weightlifting team (yes, it's an old reference. Fuck you, I don't have a more current doping scandal). Two, I know that neither my wife nor I will be seeing anything below the waist. Even so, that shit is fucking intense! When we saw the video, my wife turned to me and said that it was good she was already preggers before we saw it. Otherwise our genetic lines would be done. 

Moral of the Story: Unless my wife decides to go the natural route, fuck natural births. Also, show kids birthing videos and you will effectively end procreation as we know it.