Enter....Gummi Bear!

Yes, it's official. I am no longer a singular entity but a feeding source for, what at this point looks remarkably like, a gummi bear growing in my uterus. It's the weirdest and most incredible thing that has ever happened to me. And to think, it all started with the illustrious Ala Moana Hotel Oktoberfest, home of the jolliest mob of wasted octogenarians known to mankind.

The sous chef and I were zipping home from said festivities when I, in my usual show of exceptional judgment, declared myself much too sober. I insisted it was the perfect time for a handle of vodka while simultaneously commenting on the unusual soreness of my generally non-descript chest hams. We unanimously decided it was the perfect combination: Booze and a pregnancy test and onward we jouneyed to the one stop booze-pregnancy shop that is Safeway Hawaii Kai.

Upon arriving home, the sous chef began mixing some libations as I worked on my aim - peeing on a little stick while trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Having diligently done my homework, I knew that the results could take up to 5 minutes to appear. I set Mr. Clear Blue Easy aside and planned on waiting for 5 only to see in that very instant, a bright blue plus sign appear, staring at me, mocking my disbelief. As the sous chef popped in to check on the progress, drinks in hand, I implored him to read the instructions, results, and confirm what I just could not seem to get my fuzzy little brain around. In a moment of sensitivity and tremendous emotional support, he looked deep into my eyes, jaw agape, and said "HOLY SHIT! I think you're pregnant!" This, little Gummi Bear, is how we came to meet you for the first time, and as you will learn through the years, is without a doubt, quintessentially us.