Tonight we attended our first birthing class. Much to our surprise, most of the couples were in their mid-thirties, like us. While first-time parents made up the majority of those in attendance, a few couples had older children at home and were taking the course as a refresher.

We went around the room and introduced ourselves and told the sex of the baby (if we happened to belong to the camp that believed in finding out) along with any names we had chosen. Kiki, the chirpy labor and delivery nurse teaching the class, also asked us to share what sort of aspirations we had for our little bundle once he or she arrived.

Mike, one of the younger fathers-to-be, wore a Redskins sweatshirt and proudly announced that his son was going to play in the NFL. Everyone laughed and the next couple shared, and the next.

When our turn came, my competitive husband took the floor. “We’re Chip and Ellie. We’re having a girl, we’re not telling anyone the name until after she’s born, and she’s going to own the football team Mike’s son plays for.”

I love him.