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Description
The first time I saw her, she was dressed in a duck costume.
It wasn't anything special-just the fact that she was wearing a duck costume provided a shocker.
"Hi," she said, "are you Theodore?"
"Yeah," I said, "are you…Ella?"
"Yes," she said.  Then, noticing that I was staring at the duck costume, said "Oh! You like it?"

I didn't know what to say to that.

1.

"Theodore, you must understand…she is your niece...do this for the family," my sister Sylvia's words echoed in my head.  I groaned, and turned over in the bed that I shared with my wife, Renee.  She was asleep, at present, her job starting at 5 o'clock and ending at 10.  She was an emergency room doctor, and having the possibility of being called in at any time in the middle of the night, she needed sleep.
My wife was, quite honestly, the money-maker of the family.  I was a self-proclaimed "author", having written several books.  Unfortunately, I was having a long bout of writer's block with my next book, and I had a feeling that no amount of sleep could cure it.
I looked over at my spouse's sleeping form.  Her brown hair spilled over her pillow, and her hazelnut-colored eyes, at present, were closed.  Her chest was calmly, almost mesmerizingly rising up and down, to an inaudible rhythm. She looked so at ease…I couldn't imagine how she would react to the news that my 15-year-old niece was coming to our house in Colorado, as per my sister's instructions. My sister Sylvia was a bit worried about her, and had asked me to watch her, and in her words, "Fix her". Maybe I could adequately diagnose her with whatever was " plaguing her gifted mind." She must have failed to remember, whether on purpose or not, that a) I am not a doctor,  and b) I haven't ever met Ella. Ever. I sighed and turned over in bed. I just couldn't get to sleep. I got up, and ambled over to the bathroom, my footsteps padded and soft on the plush carpet Renee had fell in love with and had to have in our bedroom. I'm more of a hardwood floor person in general, but right now it was benefiting me, silencing my ponderous footsteps. I entered the bathroom, and shut the door slowly behind me, then switched on the light. My red-eyed reflection looked back at me. The man in the mirror had large bags under his eyes and looked as if he had gone on a rollercoaster twenty times. If I had personally known this man, I would have recommended that he go and get some sleep. Then my sleep-deprived mind recognized that the reflection was me.  I ran a hand through my brown hair just to make sure, and the man in the mirror mimicked me. I sighed. What was I thinking? Of course it was me.
I rifled through the medicine cabinet, looking for one thing. Aha, here it was. I took a Benadryl, then shuffled back to bed. I closed my eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a bit difficult.

I woke up to the smell of stale coffee. I checked my watch; 10 o' clock, Saturday, the 8th of June.  That Benadryl had done the trick. I needed coffee urgently, or else I would probably just sleep the whole day away. I managed to sit up, stretch, and look for my slippers before realizing that something was wrong. I looked around: alarm clock, check. Night stand made of recycled cork, check. Bed…well, I was still in it. Wife, check….wait. That was it. My wife was still in bed, curled up more or less in the same position I had seen her in last night. It was way past 5 o' clock; she was supposed to be working. So, what was she doing still in bed? I thought about this for a little; was it the alarm clock? Maybe she had forgotten to set it. I checked to make sure. Nope. Still set. Maybe she didn't hear it go off? Again, impossible, I thought, recalling what a gratingly loud beeping noise it made.
Now the question was…do I wake her up, and risk the wrath of an incredibly dangerous Renee? Or do I let her sleep, and risk having a very disgruntled and grumpy Renee, if she had slept in on accident? I weighed the pros and cons in my head, but luckily, I didn't need to choose. Renee slowly opened her eyes and sat up. I braced for impact; how would she react? She slowly rolled over, checked the clock, then turned off the alarm setting and went back to sleep.
Now I was really confused. I rolled out of bed, and walked to the kitchen. My feet felt cool against the linoleum of the floor as I shuffled over to the refrigerator and grabbed two eggs. I turned on the electric stove, and proceeded to make scrambled eggs, Renee's favorite breakfast, imagining it might soften the blow if she was angry about sleeping in. Just as I was adding tofu bacon to the mix (no real meat, she was vegetarian) I heard slow and deliberate steps coming from the direction of our bedroom. I silently poured a cup of coffee for my sleepy wife, who took a swig from it, then promptly ran to the sink and spat it out.
"Hot hot hot hot…" she chanted. She looked quite a bit more awake now.  I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her waist, and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. She smiled briefly, then grabbed a plate from the cupboard and took some of the eggs I had cooked her. She then sat up as if remembering something. She turned to me. "Honey…what day of the week is it?"
I flinched as I answered "Saturday."
She nodded, than took a pensive sip of her coffee. I was baffled by then. She looked up at me, than as if remembering something, she put her coffee on the counter and pushed it away from herself. I gaped at this. Renee without her coffee…this would never happen. Renee without her coffee was like an airplane without its wings. It wouldn't take flight.
"Honey, is there something…wrong?" I asked hesitantly.
She looked at me blankly.
I returned her blank look with one of confusion. "Honey…aren't you supposed to be at work? And why aren't you drinking your liquid life?"
She paused, and then smacked her head. "Damn it, I did forget to tell you, didn't I?"
"…forgot to tell me what?"
"Honey…I'm pregnant!"

Description
The first time I saw her, she was dressed in a duck costume.
It wasn't anything special-just the fact that she was wearing a duck costume provided a shocker.
"Hi," she said, "are you Theodore?"
"Yeah," I said, "are you…Ella?"
"Yes," she said.  Then, noticing that I was staring at the duck costume, said "Oh! You like it?"

I didn't know what to say to that.

1.

"Theodore, you must understand…she is your niece...do this for the family," my sister Sylvia's words echoed in my head.  I groaned, and turned over in the bed that I shared with my wife, Renee.  She was asleep, at present, her job starting at 5 o'clock and ending at 10.  She was an emergency room doctor, and having the possibility of being called in at any time in the middle of the night, she needed sleep.
My wife was, quite honestly, the money-maker of the family.  I was a self-proclaimed "author", having written several books.  Unfortunately, I was having a long bout of writer's block with my next book, and I had a feeling that no amount of sleep could cure it.
I looked over at my spouse's sleeping form.  Her brown hair spilled over her pillow, and her hazelnut-colored eyes, at present, were closed.  Her chest was calmly, almost mesmerizingly rising up and down, to an inaudible rhythm. She looked so at ease…I couldn't imagine how she would react to the news that my 15-year-old niece was coming to our house in Colorado, as per my sister's instructions. My sister Sylvia was a bit worried about her, and had asked me to watch her, and in her words, "Fix her". Maybe I could adequately diagnose her with whatever was " plaguing her gifted mind." She must have failed to remember, whether on purpose or not, that a) I am not a doctor,  and b) I haven't ever met Ella. Ever. I sighed and turned over in bed. I just couldn't get to sleep. I got up, and ambled over to the bathroom, my footsteps padded and soft on the plush carpet Renee had fell in love with and had to have in our bedroom. I'm more of a hardwood floor person in general, but right now it was benefiting me, silencing my ponderous footsteps. I entered the bathroom, and shut the door slowly behind me, then switched on the light. My red-eyed reflection looked back at me. The man in the mirror had large bags under his eyes and looked as if he had gone on a rollercoaster twenty times. If I had personally known this man, I would have recommended that he go and get some sleep. Then my sleep-deprived mind recognized that the reflection was me.  I ran a hand through my brown hair just to make sure, and the man in the mirror mimicked me. I sighed. What was I thinking? Of course it was me.
I rifled through the medicine cabinet, looking for one thing. Aha, here it was. I took a Benadryl, then shuffled back to bed. I closed my eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a bit difficult.

I woke up to the smell of stale coffee. I checked my watch; 10 o' clock, Saturday, the 8th of June.  That Benadryl had done the trick. I needed coffee urgently, or else I would probably just sleep the whole day away. I managed to sit up, stretch, and look for my slippers before realizing that something was wrong. I looked around: alarm clock, check. Night stand made of recycled cork, check. Bed…well, I was still in it. Wife, check….wait. That was it. My wife was still in bed, curled up more or less in the same position I had seen her in last night. It was way past 5 o' clock; she was supposed to be working. So, what was she doing still in bed? I thought about this for a little; was it the alarm clock? Maybe she had forgotten to set it. I checked to make sure. Nope. Still set. Maybe she didn't hear it go off? Again, impossible, I thought, recalling what a gratingly loud beeping noise it made.
Now the question was…do I wake her up, and risk the wrath of an incredibly dangerous Renee? Or do I let her sleep, and risk having a very disgruntled and grumpy Renee, if she had slept in on accident? I weighed the pros and cons in my head, but luckily, I didn't need to choose. Renee slowly opened her eyes and sat up. I braced for impact; how would she react? She slowly rolled over, checked the clock, then turned off the alarm setting and went back to sleep.
Now I was really confused. I rolled out of bed, and walked to the kitchen. My feet felt cool against the linoleum of the floor as I shuffled over to the refrigerator and grabbed two eggs. I turned on the electric stove, and proceeded to make scrambled eggs, Renee's favorite breakfast, imagining it might soften the blow if she was angry about sleeping in. Just as I was adding tofu bacon to the mix (no real meat, she was vegetarian) I heard slow and deliberate steps coming from the direction of our bedroom. I silently poured a cup of coffee for my sleepy wife, who took a swig from it, then promptly ran to the sink and spat it out.
"Hot hot hot hot…" she chanted. She looked quite a bit more awake now.  I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her waist, and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. She smiled briefly, then grabbed a plate from the cupboard and took some of the eggs I had cooked her. She then sat up as if remembering something. She turned to me. "Honey…what day of the week is it?"
I flinched as I answered "Saturday."
She nodded, than took a pensive sip of her coffee. I was baffled by then. She looked up at me, than as if remembering something, she put her coffee on the counter and pushed it away from herself. I gaped at this. Renee without her coffee…this would never happen. Renee without her coffee was like an airplane without its wings. It wouldn't take flight.
"Honey, is there something…wrong?" I asked hesitantly.
She looked at me blankly.
I returned her blank look with one of confusion. "Honey…aren't you supposed to be at work? And why aren't you drinking your liquid life?"
She paused, and then smacked her head. "Damn it, I did forget to tell you, didn't I?"
"…forgot to tell me what?"
"Honey…I'm pregnant!"