Everybody thinks, I don't know what's going on. Mommy is walking around like her belly is a helium balloon. Hey, I know the 411 and I'm happy the way things are now. And I just have to say, there's a certain good feeling you get going to the pub and the bar-keep 'll give you whatever you ask for.
All the books say we're not supposed to tell Emma she's going to have a baby brother or sister (my wife won't let the sonogram people tell us the sex, which is another story) until the day when it is about to happen. That toddlers have no sense of time, are not naturally long term planners. Yet, it does seem, Emma is spending a lot of time at the local pub.
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