1) He is born a different ethnicity from me. Not because I have any prejudices, but if he comes out anything other than Caucasian, I would like to have a word with our fertility doctor. I have heard of babies switched at birth, but babies switched at conception sounds like a great Jerry Springer episode...or a great Lifetime movie. I can see it now: "The Doctor Who Mixed Up The Test Tubes: The Belbertwald Huffman Story." I don’t know which roles they would play, but I insist that it stars Judith Light, Valerie Bertinelli and Meredith Baxter. Meredith Baxter will play me.
2) He looks like one of my college roommates. Then, I would like to have a word with my wife. During our fertility hurdles, many of my male friends sincerely and selflessly offered their support. Perhaps I needed to make it clear that this was not the type of support I was seeking.
3) He has been hiding a brother or sister in there. We would love a second child someday, but this would put a wrench in my delicately planned out, OCD life. I've been saving for your college education since I was six years old. I have a spreadsheet about you, son. Don't make me edit it.
4) The Farmer's Almanac is correct and I end up delivering him myself on the side of Powhite in two feet of snow. For those of you who know me well, I don’t do medical things. I don’t like getting blood drawn. If I have to be anywhere near the business end of this miracle, everyone suffers. Don’t get me wrong. I will do what needs to be done. But it would take an epidural and Xanax to get me through it.
5) He comes out using a Blackberry. I figure by the time he is a teen, texting will have evolved into some sort of brainwave, implanted chip type of shenanigans, where teens stare at each other and transmit telekinetic OMGs and LOLs while I sit there saying, "Back in my day, we had to use machines to text...whippersnappers!" Besides, I use an iPhone.