If it wasn’t already obvious, the title of this book is Goodbye Hooters. If you are a man who knows anything about women, pregnancy, breasts, and tacky restaurants… you can pretty much kiss the latter two goodbye; at least for the duration of your woman’s pregnancy. But, this isn’t just another typical run-of-the-mill story, chain-sawing away in hopes of catering to an expectant female audience. Not in the least. This book is dedicated to those who can’t be bothered to ask for directions under any circumstances, those who believe beer drinking is a religion, those who over-exaggerate the size of everything, and those who don’t know jack-shit about pregnancy – Men!
Available as an E-book on Amazon or Barnes & Noble.
Don’t have a Kindle or Nook? Get the PDF here for $3.99
Excerpts From Goodbye Hooters
Nausea, Morning Sickness, and KFC
With the alcohol issue clearly out of the way, we jumped back into the grind and casually started catching our first glimpses of what pregnancy had to offer. Our opinions may vary, but the first change I remember noticing in my wife was her newly acquired canine sense of smell. I swear to God, she could tell me that the neighbor four houses down just pulled a pepperoni Hot-Pocket out of the microwave. I could come home from work and she could inventory the food items I’d eaten for lunch by the trace odors left on my uniform. “You had a turkey sandwich on potato bread, a Carnegie Deli pickle, twenty-seven Cheetos, and a Lil’ Debbie’s snack cake at about 1:30!” I just stood there in awe. How the hell did my Rain Man of a wife know I ate twenty-seven Cheetos? That’s some freaky shit!
Trying to Stay Focused
Some days you will dwell on the fact that you will soon be a father. On other days the thought will never even be a blip on the radar. I don’t recall why. Maybe it was my coping mechanism, maybe it was nature, maybe it was work interfering, but either way sometimes it completely slipped my mind. Not because I was intentionally being uncaring, but I’d say it just wasn’t tangible at that moment. Men like to have something that they can hold with their own hands. Something they can gaze upon. Something they can dissect and instantly understand its mechanical operations and properties. The overall concept of an unknown something does not satisfy this need for most males, including me.
One of the things that allowed me to stay focused was taking an active role in the entire process. Simply said, I understood fifty-percent of the burden of responsibility rested on my shoulders as well. If I sat idly on the sidelines, at some point someone other than me was going to become my decision maker. And if I allowed that to take place, the only person I could have been pissed-off at was me.