Havin’ My Baby
Best served with Think About Life’s Havin’ My Baby
Dear dad, if you’re reading this, don’t got over-excited. I am not, repeat NOT pregnant. At least not in the conventional manner.
In a manner of speaking, I am with child. My little “bun in the oven” is a PhD dissertation. It’s currently being incubated in MATLAB and Kile rather than my womb. Much to my physical satisfaction. I’m not ready for stretch marks and crying infants in the all hours of the night. I am however finding them more and more adorable, so, Dad, don’t fret, there is still hope of having your own direct grandchild (Kristín Björg excluded). However, this post is a disclaimer, that I do not intend to have a proper human baby until my PhD studies are complete, or at least I have a statistically significant other. No accidental babies on the table, just to appease you and your ridiculous bet with your younger brother on how many grandchildren you have with direct genetic linkage to. So dad, please don’t bother me with needless pleas of finding someone for the sole purpose of reproduction. At least not for the next two years. Thank you in advance.
Everyone else except my dad: The reason for this post is that I just found out my stepsister, who is 3 years younger than I, is with child; due in March of next year. I am fairly certain that this will result in excessive (more than usual) requests from my dad in making him a proper grandfather. And also, if I could keep his name alive, Ingimundur if it’s a boy and Ingimunda if it’s a girl. Yeah, that might actually be the main reason why I won’t heed his call. Maybe Inga, but never Ingimunda. That’s just cruel.
Statistically speaking, I think every single of my cousins on my father’s side and stepsisters have (or about to have) an offspring of their own. Exception being my youngest cousin, 19 years old, and a couple cousins which have non-pushy parents for when it comes to baby-making. Nevertheless, they are boys, and therefore not relevant. At least according to my dad.
I feel oddly outnumbered!
P.S. Counter-intuitively none of my family on my mother’s side (at acceptable childbirth’s age) have a mini version of themselves, except my brother. I am fairly certain that Baby Panda will be the only great-grandchild for many years to come. Needless to say there is no one pushing for more offspring on that side. There the criteria is to finish your education before spawning off your own little mineons.