Baby, oh baby
“Sandy, when you start seeing someone, do you ever imagine if it worked out, what your kids would look like? Like what they’d do and who they’d be when they grew up?? Um… what?
Shocked and not knowing how to respond exactly, (because…well, I’m a girl, of COURSE I imagine those things! Even though, I always fancied myself as one to adopt…and that’s if I decide to have kids…what the crap – I go from being terrified of children to suddenly ecstatic that someone has thought about procreating with me) I ask, “do you??
Well, apparently you have. Duh.
“I asked you first…That’s why I asked you if you’re athletic.?
Uhhh… Okay, for reality’s sake—since all of it’s quite the long shot—we’ll say he’s athletic enough for the both of us. I was (am) the speech/theatre geek who still prides herself on her former thespian status. Not only does he coach multiple traveling soccer teams and pre-kick football, but plays in an independent league as well… pretty sure just being around the guy will make me athletic by association.
It’s a weird thought. I’ve got dark hair, dark eyes. He’s an Aryan stallion with piercing blue eyes. What would they look like? Ohhh pretty babies 
What would they do?
I don’t know but I have to admit, I’m more than a little intimidated at the thought of ever being pregnant by a soccer player… the kid would take that kicking thing they do to a whole new level. Not sure how I feel about that. I have a sensitive stomach.
Maybe he’ll be a drama king or she’ll be in choir… the American Idol twenty years from now?
Maybe in an event of irony, my hypothetical kid I’ll have in fifteen years will inspire me to become more athletic to get rid of the post-baby belly? Perhaps pull a Mommy Makeover or maybe, just maybe he’ll teach me how to play soccer.
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