by Dave Ellis

This November we are having baby number five, which means we have a little over two months to come up with a better name than ‘baby number five.’ That child could never be president: who’d elect ‘Baby Number Five Ellis’ to office?

All the good girl names are already taken (meet any girls named ‘Katelyn’ lately?) or are already being used for other family member’s pets. I personally like the name ‘Maggie’ but it’s the name of my brother Nate’s black lab. We do have a few other names picked out but are holding off on a decision until the birth.

I’m a lucky man because my wife has, at the risk of being an insensitive man-jerk, easy pregnancies. Now I know that there is no such thing as an ‘easy’ pregnancy but she is blessed not to be sick and doesn’t crave any weird foods.

Personally I looked forward to the weird cravings. If she asked me to get a pizza with fried pickles on it at midnight I’d be as excited as a fat guy getting a pizza with fried pickles on it. Not much of an analogy but you get my point.

The other ‘easy’ part is that each delivery has been planned out. We didn’t do the crazy rush to the hospital like they do on so many TV shows. I didn’t ‘spaz out’ any more than usual. In fact, it all went very fast (for me) and soon we’re the proud owners of a new baby.

Then the nurses hand you this brand new baby and push you out the door. What they don’t tell about is the 18 year (at least) payment plan at an adjustable rate as they child ages. If you have a girl then you get a big balloon payment called a wedding.
Considering this will be our fourth girl, I’m getting a little worked up. I need a paper bag to breathe in.

I must say that I am also a lucky man to have my wife because she gets my jokes. That may not seem like a lot to you serious people out there, or ‘serios’ as we jokers call you, but to someone whose sole existence is to see how funny (or annoying) he can be at EVERY SINGLE MOMENT EVEN WHEN IT’S NOT APPROPRIATE, a quote off of my sixth grade report card, it really is a big deal.

When I was dating I would rate the girls I dated off of how they laughed at my jokes. If they forced the laugh, I lost interest. If they did a nervous laugh or got a restraining order, I knew they weren’t the one for me.

My wife on the other hand played along with me like a Vaudeville act. She never out-did my funny, which would be very emasculating. Instead she was like the ground cumin in my babaghanoush (look it up, it’s delicious); she complimented me. I knew she was the one and gladly I snagged her.

Now that I’ve been married over thirteen years I finally understand the words of my father, “If you find that special someone who will shave your back and still kiss you on the mouth, hold onto her and don’t look back.” I’m still trying to figure out how to get that phrase into a love song. Do you know any good rhymes for back hair? Me neither.

I’ll keep you updated when the baby gets here on what name we choose. Maybe I should call it ‘Final Ellis Baby’ but I don’t want to jinx myself. I would love to hear your suggestions, serious or jokious. Let me know at
dave@desertsaintsmagazine.com.