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Week 23.

To take advantage of the long Memorial Day weekend just past, Wifey, the belly, and I took a little excursion out to the desert.

I’ll admit I took some shit from friends and family for the decision to take my pregnant companion away from 75 degree weather on the beaches of San Diego in favor of 100 degrees in Palm Springs. I offer one simple explanation (aside from the general escapism of a mini road trip): the resort that I cashed our free night in on – La Quinta Resort & Spa – has no less than 41 pools on the property. 41!!! I have never seen joy such as that on Baby Mama’s face when we arrived, began pool-hopping, and her belly sank below the water for the first time.

We were not the only ones with this brilliant idea – there was a veritable parade of baby bumps around the “Adult Pool” at La Quinta this weekend. Bumps at all stages of development, staring each other down, wondering who is where in the process, who will win the race.

Some of the other parents-to-be even had the foresight to bring along their own floating devices. Not only did I fail on the floatie – although we actually purchased one just last week and could easily have thrown it in the car – but it honestly hadn’t even occurred to me just how therapeutic the water would be for the wife, despite the fact that I myself swim laps almost every day.

Pay attention, boys: get your woman in the pool. Just make sure you’ve got some extra room in the backyard, because she’ll probably end up wanting her own.







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