Upper Deck or Topps

My brother tried to convince me to wait until after the kid was born to find out the gender. He said It would be the "greatest surprise of my life". And he's right. It would have been. But to be honest, I need to find out as soon as possible whether our kid's turkey timer pops up or stays in forever.

You see I have a horrible poker face.

And I'll let you in on a little secret: 9 times out to 10 if you tell me something and in response I raise my eyebrows and softly yell "awesome", whatever you're talking about is in fact "not awesome". You'll know cause I'll have the same look on my face as a 4 year when told to smile for the camera.

I'm generally a nice guy, but if I'm the slightest bit disappointed, you'll know it. I can't hide it. When I was eleven I begged my Mom for a 1989 "Upper Deck" Complete Baseball Card Set. Anyways, a few days before Christmas, I noticed a present underneath the tree that looked eerily like a baseball card set and my excitement grew. So you can imagine my disappointment when I tear open the wrapping paper and f-ing Jose Canseco is staring straight into my face. And he's mocking me from the box of a 1989 "Topps" Baseball Card Set. Muther F-ing TOPPS? Not Donruss. Not Fleer. Certainly not Upper Deck. But Muther F-ing Topps? For a split second I thought there were only two logical explanations for this: 1) my Mom has no idea who the f-ck she gave birth to in 1977; or 2) my Mom knowingly wanted to break my little heart, she in fact knows me better than I know myself, so she hatches a plan using the ol' Upper Deck Trojan Horse and releases the Topps soldiers in order to break my spirits forever. Which is funny cause my Mom's super nice. Anyways, eventually I realize that my Mom made an honest mistake out of love, and that my spoiled ass should be happy regardless (at least she got "baseball card complete set" right), so I tried to play down my displeasure. I raised my eyebrows and fake yelled, "awesome.....baseball cards.....just what I wanted". Unfortunately, my poker face said "Dad's my favorite parent now, lady". What's worse is I could actually see the air deflate from my Mom's face. At the time, that was the worst I had ever felt in my whole life.

But there's a silver lining: after a few months of saving and doing extra chores, I was able to purchase the magical 1989 Upper Deck set. Hoorraayyy!

Its funny cause when Carrie and I first started dating in college, I was so broke but I wanted to impress her by taking her out to a fancy weekend getaway. I saved up some money from my job but I needed a little extra to make sure I could cover the cost of the "jacket required" restaurant that I booked. Looking for some fast cash I went to a baseball card convention and sold the magical 1989 Upper Deck set as well as the rest of my childhood baseball cards and sets I brought that day.

So why am I telling you about my inability to hide my 1989 Christmas disappointment from my Mom?

Because I know (if I don't know the sex of our kid going in) when the baby pops out and the Doc asks me to announce the gender, I'm going to raise my eyebrows and I'm going to fake yell, "awesome.....a girl.....just what I wanted", while the rest of my poker face shows absolute terror. And everyone will know at that moment that my wife gave birth to a bubbly, bouncing 1989 Topps Baseball Card Set.

I know I'm a horrible person for thinking that. But it's true.

While I'm scared shitless about having a baby, I'm more scared shitless about the possibility of raising a girl. Now don't get me wrong, whatever gender our kid turns out to be I'll be happy. It's just yelling "it's a boy" feels more natural to me then yelling "it's a girl".

First of all, if we have a girl, that little chick is going to have me wrapped around her chubby little fingers.

Carrie already jokes that she's going to have to be the disciplinarian if she pops out a chick. Cause let's face it, if we have a girl, she's going to be pretty darn cute. I can say "no" to a little boy. I don't know if I have the willpower to say "no" to a cute little girl.

If we have a girl, I know that I'll be a walking ATM for the next 30 years. Her ATM code will be a voice activated "I love you Dad". What's horrible is that I know it's going to happen, but there is nothing I can do to stop it. I already see it with my friends who have little girls. Those little rugrats are so manipulative. They'll purposely walk around their mothers to get a hug from their fathers. They'll say shit like "daddy....will you marry me?" How can you resist that?

And it's not because I think boys are better or some sexist BS. Its just that for my whole life when I imagined playing with my kid, it always involved doing dude stuff. Not just playing catch and lighting shit on fire, but things like prepping the kid for their first dance or helping the kid get over their first real heartbreak. Cause let's face it, for girls, that's Mommy Territory. If we have a girl, Carrie will be the one who shops with her for her prom dress. Carrie will be the one who helps her plan her wedding. I guess I'd be jealous that our kid and Carrie will have this natural secret society that I can't (and probably shouldn't) be a part of.

Like the first time our kid "reboots her ovarian operating system", Carrie will be the one who takes her to Gunne Sax in San Francisco on a school day to talk about cute boys, traveling pants, and monthly visits from Aunt Flo. I'll be the dude eating top ramen in front of my laptop as my two girls bond over the wonders of woman hood while sharing an ice cream. Let's face it, shit would get real awkward when "Dad" butts in to a conversation about panty shields and tampons with the phrase, "so I hear its game time for the Crimson Tide".

So long story short, I want to learn the gender of our kid early so I can process everything in my own time, boy or girl. This whole post might be about girls but believe me, I could write a whole post dedicated to being scared shitless about having a boy. Cause I do like having nice things. And boys are definitely nature's wrecking ball for nice things. Regardless of gender, at least I know what I'm giving the kid for their eleventh birthday: my most cherished childhood possession, my 1989 Topps Baseball Card Set.

Disclaimer: I started writing this post before we went in for Carrie's ultrasound. I finished this post knowing the gender of out kid. Wanna know what we're having? What type or "scared shitless" am I right now? Stay tuned.