Now that the cat’s out of the bag about the impending new addition to the Buried family, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty: gender identification.

When we realized Mom and Buried was pregnant, we started speculating about what it would be. My wife wanted a girl for a variety of reasons, some that were general (a girl to bond with!), some that were personal (she grew up with, and loves having, sisters), some that weren’t big priorities (variety!). I know, a mom wants a little girl? This is not surprising to people.

What may be a surprise is that I wanted a girl too!

Will we get one? You’ll have to come to my house for a slice of color-coded cake to find out!

Just kidding. The day I have a gender reveal party is the day I do some fancy pregnancy announcement.

To be honest, before we even had our first kid, we felt like having one of each – one boy and one girl – would be the perfect combination. After we had Detective Munch, we remained undeterred. An older brother, always there to look out for his younger sister, seemed like a solid set-up. We ignored the fact that nearly everyone we know has almost all boys (it’s an epidemic!) and that I have two older brothers (the father’s genes seem to have the most influence), and we decided to consult the calendar and do what we could to even out our chromosomal mix.

Many mothers want a daughter to pass things down to, just as many dads want a son to watch football with every Sunday (while repeatedly explaining to him why he’ll never be able to play it!) But I have some reasons of my own – some selfish ones – for wanting a daughter.

Detective Munch is a mama’s boy. Which is fine (for several reasons). I was a mama’s boy too, especially when I was his age. (Now I’m a MILF boy because I’m gross and I apologize for writing that.) My son loves me, I know. But as he’s told me more than once, just “not so much” as he loves Mommy. (Or his lovey.) I understand the love little boys have for their mother, and it doesn’t change how I feel about my son. But I wouldn’t mind being someone’s favorite! And maybe if we had a daddy’s girl, I would be hers. (At least until I started cracking down,Bad Cop style.)

Having a girl might mean I’d be drafted into tea parties, and would occasionally have my nails painted, and would be forced to learn how to style hair and about “My Little Pony” (assuming my son doesn’t become a Brony first!) and all sorts of stuff. Which is A-OK with me. I had to learn a ton when I had my son too; that just goes with the territory. You think I’ve always known about “Octonauts” and “Dinotrux“? I’ve had to study! Besides, I’m kind of curious about “My Little Pony”. And I like some Taylor Swift songs!

(On the flip side, I have no doubt I’d have as much fun exposing a daughter to superheroes and sports. Gender needn’t be a disqualification. Life is for everyone. Especially when they’re young enough to be open to everything.)

I’m willing to change and adapt and leave my comfort zone to raise a daughter. I think it would be fun, in a different way than raising my son has been and will continue to be, but fun just the same. I’m excited to find out!

Alas, we’ll never* know.

Despite our best efforts, despite our desire to have another female voice in the house, despite my dream of having someone look at me the way my son looks at my wife, despite our hope that the rumor of little girls being more calm and less messy than little boys would bear out and make our lives easier for a while, despite my wish for a reason to buy a Black Widow action figure without coming off like a lecherous weirdo, we are not having a girl.

We are having another boy.

It’s all good. So far, he is healthy, and that’s all that matters, #blessed, etc. But we were greedy; we wanted a girl. After all, we already have a son! Variety is the spice of life! But don’t get it twisted; we’re excited. I’m sure the new boss will offer plenty of variety of his own, and I’m not just talking about what’s in his diaper.

Sure, Mom and Buried is going to have one more doting, demanding little dude tugging on her skirt, and I will probably be relegated to secondary status once again, but I love having brothers, and I’m excited for Detective Munch to have one of his own. A partner, if you will. (Now I wish I’d called him Detective McNulty instead, so I could call the new guy Bunk!)

We didn’t get a girl, and that’s a-ok. The game is the game. But does anyone know a good maid? With another boy in the house, things are gonna get messy.

*There’s no way in hell we’re having a third! Vasecto-ME!