Oh boy

One nice thing about having a daughter is that as she gets older, I can act like an idiot and she won't think that's how she should act too. She and her mother will just glance at each other and say in unison, "Men." There's a certain license for shenanigans when you're the only man in the house.

Granted, the dad has the responsibility of treating the daughter the right way so that she doesn't spend her teenage years seeking the attention of horny boys. And no matter what you do, it's possible she'll choose some douche-bag boyfriend and I'll have to intimidate the hell out of him. But I can do that, no problem.

So then with a second daughter, I imagine there would be an immediate breath of relief that it's not going to turn your whole world upside-down. If you have one daughter, what's another one? You have hand-me-downs and the promise of the bond that sisters share. And you never have to interact with a penis on the changing table.

"Are you certain it's a boy?" I said to the x-ray technician.

"Well, he's showing off pretty well," she replied.

Oh fuck.

I've had a lot of other thoughts since then, but that was the first. A son? Let us count the ways that I will screw up this young man's life. I can't be this kid's example of manhood. I mean holy shit: I was on the speech team. What if he wants to play football or go hunting? "Okay, son. Let's get your uncles on the phone."

"Yeah, my dad's okay," he'll tell his friends. "I don't know. He cries during Grey's Anatomy. What's there to say?"

I'm ridiculously excited, don't get me wrong. Just a little freaked out.