As far as the rest goes, I know it is completely wrong to jinx things by telling everyone but I just don't care this time.
What will be will be. I don't even have a snarky comment to leave.
In fact, here's a poem.
My Idea of Family
When I grow up I'll have 20 children
The last will be called Jesus
I told my mother,
When I was six
Even then I knew had ideas above my station
"Where will you keep them?"
She asked, perplexed, relaxed, amused, nonplussed
"Under the table in the dining room, of course"
"And who will care for them?"
She added.
"You, and dad"
"And who will the father be?"
She continued, perturbed, smirking
"Oh, there won't be one" I shot back.
Blink and you'll miss it, they say.
When they say funny things, when they do stuff too incredible to deal with
Superhuman babies.
Even then I was smarter than I am now
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