Joan [Brent's lovely and wonderful mother] has predicted that I will have 5 boys in my future. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. She's mostly joking [I think].
Here is your story:
Tonight at Lowes [because Home Depot and Menards are the WRONG stores] Brent and I were walking through the lighting department. While he was looking up at the displays and contemplating, I happened to spot a family. A family of six. One father, one mother, and onetwothreefour- FOUR boys. All boys. The eldest was probably 16. Then maybe a 13 year old. An 11 year old perhaps. And the caboose boy was maybe 8. The following happened in mere seconds:
Boy #4 shoves boy #2 in the back. Boy number #3 is trying to pull something heavy off of the shelf by himself. Boy #4 is haggling with the mother to try to convince her to buy him something while boy #2 is also trying to convince her that boy #4 is trying to kill him. Dad turns to her and asks, "What about this fixture?"
I didn't hear her response because I was too busy saying, "Brent, I don't care what your mom says, I can't do it!"
Brent: "Huh? Do you like this fan?"
Me, looking for a brown paper bag to breath into: "A fan? Are you kidding me? Look at that family!!! I can't have all boys. I need girls. GIRLS!!! I am a girl! My sister is a girl! I know girls! I like girls! Boys smell!! Boys try to precariously push each other off of cliffs! I. JUST. CAN'T. DO. THIS!!"
Brent: "So you don't like the fan?"
Here is your reflection:
I know when Brent and I decide to have children the Lord will give us whatever sex He chooses; possibly even whatever sex He knows we can handle. But I am going to begin praying FERVENTLY that I do not have FIVE onetwothreefourFIVE boys.