A letter to my daughter

Baby - we need to talk. Or rather, since you're still in the womb, I'll do all the talking and you can just listen. But as your father, I do expect you to listen closely, even if it sounds a bit burbly.

See, that's the problem: you're still in the womb. This is not ideal. Your mother and I have gone to great pains to get everything ready for you ahead of time. In fact, not to brag, but I'm pretty sure we've had everything prepared for over two months. Now, that may come naturally to your mother, but for me it's a feat of nigh biblical proportions. I'm not looking for accolades, but it would be nice if you could recognize the lengths to which we've gone and cooperate by, you know, vacating the premises.

And yes, I know what your response would be if your lungs weren't full of amniotic fluid- that it's not time yet, it's not technically forty weeks until October 20th. This is true. And maybe that excuse would fly if you were just my child, since I'm constantly late. But you and I both know your mother is perennially early to everything, gets mildly peevish if it looks like we'll be a full 30 seconds late to work, and eats lunch and dinner at times normally reserved for blue-haired Florida retirees. So you can't tell me you don't have any early genes in you, and while God knows I'm glad to know you have some of my traits too, this is one instance where I'd really be happy to have you take more after your mother.

Understand, I'm not asking this purely out of impatience. I mean of course we're eager to meet you, but there are some important logistical factors involved too. For instance, your grandfather is being honored for his contributions and years of service to the high school as a track coach by being inducted into the hall of fame. This is a big deal, with a ceremony and everything. Daddy is attending, along with your aunt and grandma and even your great-grandfather, but Daddy would really like to have Mommy there too, and maybe even you if you're old enough. But see, the ceremony is taking place in early November, so if there's even going to be a chance of that, you really need to get on the ball and get born as soon as possible.

And then there's Mommy's friend who's getting married in early November. This friend has been extremely accommodating and is letting Mommy wait until the very last minute before RSVPing, but the sooner you're born, the greater the chance Mommy might feel comfortable attending. Otherwise Daddy may have to attend alone, and while he's always a fan of an open bar and no one around to make him be reasonable, it would not be in anyone's best interest for Daddy to be at a wedding where he only knows 3 people and spends the entire night drinking alone. This is how episodes of COPS start.

So you see, baby, it really would be better for everyone if you could arrive sooner rather than later. Your mother and I are ready, no thanks to Daddy, your nursery is set up, the bags are packed, Daddy has practiced with his video camera and is pretty sure he can keep from accidentally recording 30 minutes of his shoes... everything's taken care of. And let's face it, your living space isn't getting any larger; things have to be pretty cramped in there. So let's get a move on, huh? I promise, there's a great big, wonderful world out here that's full of people waiting to meet you.

And only some of them are Jehovah's Witnesses.