AND THE GENDERS ARE...
Boys. Two boys.
That’s what they are.
For whatever reason, I hadn’t really been mentally geared up for two boys. I had a hunch that we were having two girls. Julie was banking on one of each (perhaps because it was statistically the most likely outcome, and because you have to be at least half right… she’s smart like that). But in the end we were both wrong.
Reactions across the Curtis-Workman compound are mixed.
First off, it’s a right boon for the Workman franchise. My dad is one of two sons, and they have three sons between them (I’m one of them, in case you’re having a hard time following this). One cousin is married and has two daughters. They’re lovely, but they won’t do much to carry on the Workman name. My other cousin is… I don’t actually know, he’s kind of fallen off the map. So it comes down to me to keep “Workman” alive.
Now I’ve done it, twice. We’ll have an heir, and a spare. This could be particularly handy if we discover that our family is actually next in line for the Swiss throne or something. (Laugh all you want, these things happen all the time.)
Julie was shocked by the “two boys” announcement. She says she feels as if she will be outnumbered, and soon our new home will come to resemble a frat house, complete with stinking heaps of underwear instead of carpeting, and toilet seats constantly left in the “up” position.
“You’re the one responsible for potty training them,” Julie said as I returned home from my job as Medford’s News Authority.
“Well, you’re the one peeing for them right now. So for continuity’s sake…” I should have answered.
One advantage to fathering twin boys is the macho factor. Twin girls? People go, “Awwwww,” and assume you’re little Mr. Sensitive now.
Twin boys? You get respect from the other guys for that. No one will ever question your virility again. “You must have an amazing penis,” the other guys think, “because you just made two other penises in a single… uh… bound.”
This is particularly satisfying as I just learned that Ava (a decrepit and evil Hungarian leech who lives to suck the life and happiness from others) told my mother-in-law that I wasn’t “man enough” to get Julie pregnant. Oh yeah?
Now comes the naming challenge. We’ve got to come up with two, which is handy, because it will be easier to slip names past Julie. As long as she gets one name she’s happy with, who cares that the second child is named “Grandmaster Flash”?
And I do think “Grandmaster Flash” is a great name. Think of what a child could achieve with a name like “Grandmaster Flash.” He would be fearless. Come on, he’s Grandmaster Flash! It seems unlikely he would become an accountant, at the very least.
The only problem with calling one twin Grandmaster Flash is figuring out what to call the other one. It’s really hard to follow up Grandmaster Flash.
I like “Nathan Junior” as well, for reasons that should be obvious to fans of “Raising Arizona.”
Well, we’ve got several more months to work that one out. But as always, we’re open to suggestions.