Tomorrow we're scheduled to get our first true peak of Butterbean with its private parts exposed. It'll be a strange release to not have people tell us what they think we're going to have. Granted that most of the infuriation of the guessing game was hearing certain people insist it will be a girl. Not that I'm not going to go have the same reaction as the citizens of a certain internet blocking country if it's a girl. Cause if it's a girl, I know my mom will be the first to spoil her. If it's a son, the kid will learn fast how to be a lefthanded sinkerball middle reliever so he'll only have to throw six pitches ever three nights for the next 20 years. Got to think of the kid's future.
So tonight I will kiss Becky's tummy and wish Butterbean a good night. Tomorrow night it will have to hear its name through a tuba burst on becky's bellybutton.
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