And I shall name her Jane. Or possibly Lucy. Don’t steal that shit, because you know it’s good.
As a matter of fact, if either one of those names becomes super popular in the next couple of years, I’m taking full credit*.
Don't fret, I’m not pregnant or anything! This is something I decided, not something that’s actually happening, like, in the real world. In case you were worried. Crockett. And dad.
I’m not actually kidding about this. I’m fairly sure that if I declare it often enough and strongly enough, my uterus will get the message, and by the time I get around to having a baby it will in fact be a girl. If it isn’t, my uterus and I are going to have some words, man. I have put up with more bullshit from that particular organ than the rest of them combined, so giving me a girl is the least it can do.
Doesn’t it have something to do with body temperature? And can’t yogis control body temperature through sheer will? I have a lot of will.
I know it’s bad form to say this, and if I get pregnant at some point I’ll probably say ‘I’ll love my baby no matter what gender it is’ like everyone does. But right now, I’m ok with this: I want a girl, if I’m going to have a baby. I love little boys, I do, but dinosaurs and little tiny penises are not my thing. Dresses and feminism are my things.
Jane, (or Lucy), tell all the other babies waiting in …. that baby waiting zone that we all know exists... what is that called? … that your name is taken.
*I currently also take full credit for this:
P.S. Younger Emmas, at some point little boys (or other little girls who are jealous of your completely stellar name) will realize that the fact that your name means ‘all embracing’ makes an excellent slut joke. Kindly direct them to today's post on The Road and then inform them that you will not accept an insult that has been officially retired and demand they be more creative.