We had stayed up late on several nights discussing the potentiality, and I had conveyed my thoughts that raising a child at this time in her and/or our lives was not the hottest idea, but that I would respect any decision she made. Nevertheless, for several reasons, she wanted to shoot for mommy-hood. And her new boy seemed to want to be a father, but was justifiably concerned since there only seemed to be about a 20% chance that his boys had won the fallopian wrestling match against my team. The kicker was that he and I look something alike, so we'd have to wait for the kid to try and learn calculus to find out who's genetic material was running around breaking things.
As things would have it, it turned out that J was only psychologically pregnant, as her blood test came back with other ideas. Phew. Course, the new boy seems eager to recorrelate reality with J's misconceptions, and I think it's pretty likely that their lackadaisical attitude towards contraception will rapidly lead to that eventuality. I wish them luck -- my team is hitting the showers.
There is a disturbing parallel to the reproductive antics of my friend B (aka Simon). It seems that S (aka Michele), who is planning to conceive B's child and raise the little hellion even though they are broken up, is having an ongoing affair with another -- another who, sure enough, seems up for fatherhood but is not to keen about the previously selected gene donor, probably not to mention the method of delivery. And, once again, it presents as an insight into human psychology as well as a potential challenge that these two guys look like this:
Well, except for the eyes and the brain anyway.
And so the genes continue their merry dance, with the men trying to get in the womens' pants, while the females pick and choose what may, come to see the light of day.
Egads, bad poetry -- bed time for me.