I have had the extreme misfortune of reading a number of articles about accidental pregnancies, and even found a book entitled Accidentally on Purpose: A One-Night Stand, My Unplanned Parenthood, and Loving the Best Mistake I Ever Made. The author is a forty-something woman who has a child with her twenty-something hook-up, and this is the unlikely story of how everything worked out.

Now, do not misunderstand what I have to say about this; I rarely feel envy, in that, I do not want what you have to the point of you not having it. I often simply want whatever you have, too. Another copy of it, or something, but I do not begrudge you or anyone much of anything.

So, it’s not that I wish this woman had her kid without the support of the source o’ sperm. I just wish I had that, too.

I read an article written by a guy who was describing a recent pregnancy scare with a woman who was not a girlfriend, but rather, a friend with benefits kind of gal. He wrote: Is it possible not to love the mother of your child?

Hey buddy, I got a couple guys you can talk to to figure that out.

I doubt there’s much public sympathy for me since I’m in the awkward (and painful, if you want to know) position of not knowing exactly who the father is, but remember, if I was Catholic, all’s I’d have to do is go to confession, and all is forgiven. Perhaps you, random reader, adhere to a faith with a slightly crankier God who will be unsatisfied until I suffer a bit. So be it. Besides me, though, the kid is an innocent. I want the father in the picture not because I harbor a secret love and hope that we will end up together, but rather because it is in the best interest of the lima bean.

We’re all adults. We made a bit of a mistake. Something unplanned happened. Let’s buck up and be grown-ups.

No, instead, I will be writing a book entitled: My Gross Error of Judgement That Will Haunt Me Forever, Even Though I Love My Kid More Than Life Itself. I’d love *love* love to be wrong about this, but I just have a feeling that no matter who the paternity test proves is the daddy, his involvement will forever be reluctant and court-mandated, you know, one of those situations where he won’t miss a chance to get a dig in here and there. The picture he will paint of me is of someone who has nearly ruined his life! (I know I don’t need to tell you this, but I didn’t have to beg either one of these guys.)

Seriously, I’d give a kidney to be wrong about this.

So the only solution I see is to continue to work on a good title for the book, and have a laugh whenever possible. Salud! (I’m not drinking anything stiffer than some lime-ade with club soda, don’t worry!)