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Haha, I totally missed your bump, Hal 
Anyway, people apparently mention kids a lot more often once you get married... and this has been driving me mad. For one thing, I'm so against the idea of spawning anything remotely similar to an offspring that, if I had the guts to do it, I'd make my nuts walk around Harlem with a placard that reads "I hate niggers" and make sure no one named after a Greek god approaches them... or I'd have a vasectomy, whichever is easier. For another, I'm sure the first thing suffices.
I dread passing my genes on to someone who doesn't have a say on this matter - specially if they can't speak out during the months following conception. Firstly because I'd hate to have even 10% of own my genes, let alone half of them. I know what it is like to have the full set, after all. Secondly because depression runs rampant in my family, and I'd hate it if this comes bundled with the passing half (much like Sarah Silverman, I guess). I'm not sure I'd have wanted to exist if I had a say, and the only reason I remain alive is because I'm already here anyway, so I might as well try to do something with my life while I'm at it.
So I'm torn between giving my wife the hyperactive angst-ridden mini-hippy with unkempt hair she wants so much, or coming to the conclusion that the world doesn't need yet another miserable inhabitant - although, as my wife says, there's no guarantee he won't turn out to be more cheerful than I am. I'd rather adopt one as there's plenty of kids in the world anyway, but apparently it's different when one comes out of your vagina. Or so I heard. I'm vaginaless 
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