The Gift of a Son

As we drove to Ohio to see Christa’s family, she began plotting how to impart the news to her parents. The announcement was twofold, as we had committed to moving back to the Midwest as well. With two announcements to make, Christa was obviously not about to hide the engagement any longer. But since she especially liked to scare and trick her mother, a pregnancy could be hinted at for the briefest of moments, prior to revealing the second piece of news.

As we arrived, a ribbon was tied around my head, in what was the toothache fashion of yesteryear.

Right inside the front door, she said, “Guess what I got you for Christmas—a son!”

Again, cheers from the crowd. Happiness. Ring viewing.

“This calls for a celebration,” someone said.

“Christa shouldn’t drink,” I said.

She quickly followed with, “We have a second announcement to make.”

Brilliant teamwork. Trepidation welled inside her mother—as her eyes widened and breathing paused, and she hoped an unprotected joining of the genitals had not been the reason for our engagement.

“We are moving back to Cincinnati,” Christa concluded.

A noble victory: the subject was discussed enthusiastically, partly because it wasn’t Junior on the way. Christa had initially wanted to artificially create a small “bump,” as they say.

“You don’t really want to lose her to hysteria or make her heart actually stop, do you?” I had asked.

You would never pick Christa out of a lineup as the evil mastermind behind such capers, but then, those are generally the most successful perpetrators.
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival