So Close So Close So Close So

A few days ago, my dad promised me a kitten if I don't come home from Ireland pregnant. Well, actually, he said, "if I don't come home with a baby," which, since I'm only going to be there for four months, would really be impossible unless I smuggled some random person's infant under my coat, and even then I don't think that would work. I'm pretty sure I would get stopped at security or something. So, I could technically come back from Ireland slightly pregnant and still be owed a kitten. Guess he didn't think that one through.

It's really funny, though. My parents honestly almost seem worried that I'll get pregnant. I'm not sure what it says about them (or me, though I'm pretty sure it has more to do with them) that they're so concerned, but I just find it ridiculously entertaining. And I can't complain about getting a kitten out of it. It'll be one thing to look forward to when I have to leave in May.

One time in high school, my dad asked me if I was pregnant. Really. I can't remember why-- I think I was being moody or something, so he looked me in the eyes and asked me if I was pregnant. I giggled. There was no other way to respond to that question.

I think if he ever asks me again whether or not I'm pregnant, I'll tell him that I am, just to see whether he believes me. Except not, because I'm the worst liar in the world when it comes to things like that. I'd just ruin it by laughing. But I might try, anyway. Liven things up a bit.

(PS.. only four and a half days to go. Yes, I still freak out about the plane ride when I think of it. Watching LOST last year was a very bad idea. And, I still need to pack. Even though I'm not bringing much, it's pretty daunting. I'm usually pretty good about remembering most everything, but I can just see myself forgetting something totally vital. I have my fingers crossed. Hopefully, that'll be enough, but just in case, I've also knocked on wood.)