Monday, June 22

The Familial Pitter Patter in Details

Thank you Hayley for supplying the information on how the bomb was dropped.

So, story time.

Apparently they're out to dinner and Brother and Babs present a gift to my dad. It's Father's Day, nothing too out of the ordinary. So no one is suspecting anything.

My dad pulls out a knife, a gift from each Church member to their fathers. Okay.

Meanwhile, my mom is apparently screwing around with something in her lap not paying attention. Way to care about dad's Day, right? Yes, yes.

Anyways,...then my dad pulls out a black Beaver onesie, with an angry Beaver on the front...and looks at Amber...then back at the onesie...then back at Amber. Thankfully the Sheriff is a smart man and quickly drew the appropriate reaction.

Hayley says things don't really click in her mind until after my mom looks up until after the complete silence of the table draws her out of playing with whatever's in her lap. Maybe she was praying (which is code word for texting during dinner, because the phone is below the table line and the glow from the phone makes you look of divinity)."Are you...??? Amber...Are YOU?" She jumps up, runs around the table, starts bawling...I can picture it now, because I know my mother that well, and she's been waiting for this day.

The verdict: 7 weeks of 40.

And an update for the troops: After my mom declared her firm stance on, "You're not going to find out, right?" (after all, she didn't gender any of us offspring herself)...apparently they are going to find out. Yes! That way we know whether or not the family name will stop or not. Well, at least, this'll decide whether a second is necessary, not just wanted or happens.

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