The other day, after emails detailing my birthday plans were sent to Shane, he asked me something out of the blue.
"Do you think we'll ever celebrate our kids' birthdays?"
"Of course we will!"
"But I don't care for birthdays!"
"But I do. And since you join in on my birthday festivities without fuss, I can't see why you wouldn't do the same for your kids."
"You have a point."
That, to me, was an indication that I was slowly winning him over to the dark side. A dark side full of lists, plans, and celebrations. He looked like he could "see" this future right before his eyes so I decided to keep going.
"Moreover, when it's your own kid, I'm sure you'd want to celebrate birthdays. Because to you, they'll be like milestones. Even unsentimental people turn into sentimental parents."
At that, he snapped out of his reverie and burst out laughing.
When I asked him what was so funny, he said, "I just realised that if we ever have three kids, you'll have four".
And then in between laughing hysterically and gasping for breath, he said, "That's what you get for marrying me!"
So much for trying to convert him!
But the very thought of what he had said was so tiring that I couldn't even bring myself to lift up an arm to slap that sly grin off his face. He had indeed spoken the ultimate truth. If we did end up having three kids some day, I most definitely will have to try and keep those three + one alive. That surely is what I get for agreeing to marry my man-child.