39 weeks

This is going to come across a little sassy, but you know what? Don't care.

People of the world, people of downtown Minneapolis who do not know me, please take the time to read the following before speaking to me:

1. I am due on Thursday.
2. We are having a girl.
   
3. One girl.
4. No, that's right, I said I was not having twins.
5. Thank you, I appreciate the fact that you think that my baby is large.
6. And thank you again, for letting me know that the baby still has a "long way to drop." Do you take weekend appointments?
   
7. You know, if it comes out a boy, we will just have to deal with it.
   
8. Yes, we do know the name, and no, we are not telling. What? I am never going to see you again? I don't care, I am still not going to tell you.
   
9. Am I ready to be done? Do you enjoy breathing oxygen? Does pizza taste good?
10. If you really want to know, I feel like a psychotic, hormonal, pimpled whale.
11. The amount of weight that I have gained is strictly between me, the nurse who is weighing me for the 87,000th time, and my doctor.
12. I have no interest in the percentage of first babies who show up late.
13. We are as ready as two people who have never cared for an infant before in their lives possibly can be. This means yes, we have diapers.
14. At the end of 40 weeks, excitement sometimes turns into apathy. But I will pretend for you, if you'd like.