In the Beginning: The Stuff Nobody Told Daddy About Pregnancy
I should have known. It should have been obvious. How could she not be super-human?
But let me start over.
After 4 blissful years of marriage, living life on our own terms, making selfish decisions, and generally having fun when we wanted, how we wanted, my beautiful wife (Alaina) and I decided to take the plunge. We decided to embrace the miracle of life and crank our joy-meter to a whole new level.
...and then she got pregnant.
Within 2 months, my health-freak wife had a cart full of pizza rolls, jalapeno poppers, and pot stickers. She craved Thai-hot, deep-fried milkshakes, and who was I to question her gestational cravings?
At 8 months, things got really interesting. Oh, did I mention daddy is 6'5" tall? Alaina? She's 5'3". Yeah, things got a little tense around the house. Gone were the days of coming home to dinner and sleeping in the same bed as my wife, let alone, um, other bedroom activities.
And that baby! Wow. She kicked, punched, and head-butted her way into Alaina's heart bladder. And stomach. And throat. Have you seen the movie Aliens? Yeah, it was like that, only I didn't tell her so. I don't think.
Anyway, the doctor (who conveniently went on medical leave during the majority of "our" pregnancy, probably to report his finding to some top-secret research facility) never voiced concern--even when Alaina's toes transformed into Vienna sausages, her hands went completely numb, her body started radiating more heat than a super nova, and her belly cut off circulation to, well, everything.
I didn't blame the guy. He was used to looking at average babies. What tests are there, exactly, for a little girl destined to fight crime, or save the planet, or at least leap tall cribs with a single bound?
When the truth started sinking in, I was pretty sure I could live up to the challenge. I'd read my comics, watched enough "guy" movies, and played enough video games to handle super villains and masterminds bent on world domination. How hard could a little girl be?
And then Alaina went to her 37-week check-up while I was at work, and I got a phone call:
"Hello?"
"Hey."
"Hey. What's up?"
"Nothing...
...
We're going to have to have our baby tonight."
Aaannnd we'll be back after this commercial break!
Oh, c'mon. I had to wait almost a week before I learned all the facts, so you can, too.  But be warned: this story is just beginning. Every week you'll be subjected to experience parenthood just as I have--at the mercy of my daughter's superpowers--every sonic scream, explosive diaper, and UFT (Unidentified Flying Toy). I thought I was ready for the wild ride, but I couldn't have been more wrong.
So strap in, this typical childhood story is about to get weird.
