My home office is going to get cramped

The wife and I have made a decision.  We're going to take on a new boarder in the house.  There are a million positives here, not the least of which being someone else's smiles to share.  The only real negative is that what is currently my home office is going to b converted into the new bedroom.  Then my little princess will move to the other bedroom, and the room she new occupies will become the Guestroom/office.  It's not going to be a palatial place by any stretch of the imagination.

Oh, and they will live here rent-free.

Okay, now I will let any of you who have seen my home figure this one out, because you already know the office is currently in that little room connected to the master suite and separated from us by glass french doors.

[waits while 2 and 2 are combined]

"Four" in this case means -- did you figure it out yet?! -- we are having a baby.  We've been married over a year now and -- let's face it -- I'm getting no younger.  It was time for another one.

I'm rooting for a son this time around, as much as I would love to have another daughter.  Kaylee is one of the two greatest blessings God has given me, and having another daughter to raise would be thrilling.  Besides, the hand-me-down dresses and skirts would look a lot better on a girl.  But the reason I would like a son is less of a guy thing and more a function of my current physical status.  Most of you are aware of my rather severe back problems (one herniated disc, another on its way, six degenerating or already degenerated discs, mild arthritis).  Add to that problems with my right shoulder (had three partial tears in my rotator cuff which still bother me from time to time almost two years later) and two bad knees, and you can see that my window to do all that "guy stuff" with a son is closing fast.

I want to play ball with my son.  I want to teach him how to tackle, how to  perform a proper slapshot, or how to master my absolutely wicked wrist shot -- hey, a little self-promotion is good for the ego at times.  I want to do things with him that I can follow up by saying, "...but don't tell your mother!" or "I can't believe you ate that!"

Most of all, I want to teach him the art of the Armpit Fart.

But I would still be happy with another daughter.  Heck, I'd be happy if the kid turned out to be a marmoset, because it's my kid.

I'm certainly not the World's Greatest Dad by any stretch of the imagination.  I'd personally put myself closer to the other end of that spectrum, just because I believe I still have way more to learn than I should by the time my first has reached five (and a half as of Aug. 28th, for anyone counting).  But the one thing I can promise any kid of mine is unending, unconditional love.  Which I suppose shifts me toward the good end of that dad-quality scale, so maybe I'm not so bad a dad after all.  It's a sad commentary on the state of the world when love is no longer required in the eyes of society in order for someone to be deemed fit to be a parent, but that's for another time (and probably more than likely it would end up on God Then Country, not here).

Aimless ramblings aside, the point is that my wife and I are having a baby.  And I can't imagine how I could be happier!