The Banophernalian August 2001

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here's Johnny ...I'm going to dispel some old wive's tales this time out. Over the last nine months I have been subjected to about a hundred (if I was actually counting it would be closer to about five or six) different guesses as to the sex of our new baby - all backed up by a full-proof predictor.

"Oh she's carrying low, it'll be a girl."

"Oh, she's carrying high, it's going to be a boy."

"Look at her belly button, it's sticking out like a light switch. It'll be a ... "

On and on. The needle and thread trick, the alignment of the stars yadda yadda yadda.

I didn't need any of that crap. I've known for years our next child would be a girl. Period. You see, there used to be an old fashioned A&W Drive-Inn near our house. It was closing down, so we decided to go down and order a burger for the sake of nostaligia. This was after all the end of an era. While we were sitting there, I noticed they were selling some of their miniature root beer mugs. I bought three. At that time we had one boy, but bought three mugs. Each mug had a character on it - I bought two boys and a girl.

A few months later we had our second child - a boy. Coincidence? I think not. Then when we found out we were going to have our third child I knew it was going to be a girl. Time has proven me right. This month we had a little girl.

I also know that there'll be no more kids for us. No more mugs. And since the drive-inn is gone, there's no way to get more.

Jevster
August 2001

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