Driving Him to Drink

When I told Michael we were having our first child, he was overjoyed. Within two days, we had been
to every baby store in Boston and brought overpriced clothes and large zebras.
When I told Michael we were having our second, he brought a bottle of wine and he drunk a little
bit with some of his friends.
When I told Michael we were having our third, he brought a bottle and sculled half of it. This was a day
when Declan had tipped paint into his work shoes and Carmen had systematically ripped the covers
off all his business manuels and peed on the floor, all in the space of six minutes.
Are you sure? He asked, I mean, we already have two of them.
It was Michael who suggested we have our fourth. We knew we'd have a fourth eventually, and Michael
couldn't entertain the thought of a new baby arriving without his mother knowing. Michael's mother,
who is very sick, is the reason we so hastily become pregnant with our fourth.
I stood in the bathroom with the stick and when I saw the familiar positive, I yelled for Michael.
"It's a baby!" I yelled.
There was a pause.
"How much does it cost to buy out a winery these days?"