They say when you’re pregnant that you have crazy dreams. I’ve only had one crazy dream so far. I dreamt that when the baby was worn, he was born black. Mike flipped out screaming, “how could you! I thought you loved me!” and all other sorts of Maury Povich stuff. I was swearing that I didn’t know how it happened and demanded a paternity test. The doctor came back with the results and proclaimed that Mike was the father and that our child was a medical marvel. Just as Guiness was coming in to talk to us, I woke up.