Ok, Maybe It's Real Now...

I had this grand plan of using our 3 1/2 year old to tell Daddy he was going to be a big brother. For those of you who do not yet have a 3 1/2 year old, let me tell you how my scheming went:

"Evan, let's put your "Big Brother" shirt on so we can surprise Daddy when he gets home!"
"NO! I WANNA BE A YIDDOW BRUDDER! NOT A BIG BRUDDER!"

"Evan, when you're done with your bath, let's put your Big Brother shirt on for jammies, and then you can take one of your new Big Brother books downstairs for Daddy to read to you for a bedtime story!"
"NO! DAT IS NOT A JAMMIES. DAT'S CLOTHES! NOT JAMMIES. I WANT MY JAMMIES SHIRT NOW!"

Instead, I peed on that lovely digital home pregnancy test after Evan went to bed, and since Hubby had been talking about tax deductions before I had taken Evan upstairs, I presented the pee stick like this:

"Well, I don't think we can get a deduction on this year's taxes, but this should help with next year's taxes" and I showed him the pee stick. He then looked at me and said, "You're kidding, right?". And being the smart ass that I am, I looked at him deadpan and said, "Yes, I'm kidding." He then got excited and did the whole supportive husband thing. The hilarious thing is about 30 minutes later, he said, "You know, the tax thing is great- the kid will only be here for 2 months and we'll get to deduct him for the whole year!" Ah, ever the mathematician.

So then comes the fun part- when do we tell people. It was decided right away we would wait the obligatory 12 weeks, but then Hubby wanted to tell his brother. Well, if he tells his brother, I have to tell my Mom. And if I tell my Mom, I have to tell my Dad. And my brother. And my aunt. And, oh, crap. Why wait? I'm so nervous, going through the whole "what if something happens" routine, but then I think about how these people will know if something goes wrong anyway, so what's the point in waiting?

The plan is to tell my Mom and her husband when they come over tomorrow for a concert we're all going to. And, of course, the plan involves that damn Big Brother shirt and the cooperation of a 3 1/2 year old. BUT! I have bribes! Not one, but TWO Power Ranger toys that this kid has been coveting since he discovered the karate-kicking fiends in his cousin's toybox. One is to bribe him to put the shirt on if he will not. The other is to get him to tell Grandma that he is going to be a Big Brother. I am SO not above bribing in this situation. So, we'll see how it goes.

On a side note, is it just my imagination, or are my pants too tight already? I'm writing this with the top button undone. I'm so screwed. I'm gonna be a walking dinosaur.