The Baby Jackpot
"You should see this place!" exclaims Daphne "It's freakin' unbelievable, I can't WAIT to move in!"
After living with her parents for the last 8 years, Daphne has finally hit the jackpot. The baby jackpot, that is. And life has never been so good.
"I'm so excited for you, really Daphne, if you need me to help with anything, just let me know," I reply honestly.
It's true I'm not even the slightest bit irritated about her situation. Although, maybe I have the right to be.
Here's the breakdown: Daphne got knocked up by a multi-millionaire about 11 months ago. And fortunately for her, he's a really nice guy. Stupid, I think, for not wrapping his wonderous wand in rubber, but very sweet nonetheless. This multi-millionaire, Warren, is picking up the tab on his new baby and baby mommy's life. Which includes the rent on a brand new 2 bedroom luxury condo just outside Washington DC for the both of them.
Warren, however, is continuing to live his bachelor lifestyle in either his beautiful pad in Manhattan, a penthouse in Washington, or his beach home in the Hamptons. Every other weekend, he's a baby daddy, but rest of his days are filled with business trips to exotic places, beautiful girlfriends eager for an expensive night out, and one-night stands found at his hotel lobby while having martinis at the bar with the guys. Don't worry about Warren, a baby and baby momma are not cramping his style.
"Yes, I'm going to redecorate the entire place," Daphne adds. "I totally need new furniture, the old stuff I once owned is in my parent's garage, and there is no way I'm using that. Warren says he'll cover all the expenses for the nursery, and of course, our monthly bills. I mean, if I'm home watching our baby, I can't also be working to pay for all this."
Ching. ching. ching. (that's the sound of a slot machine that just hit the BIGTIME. I hear it in my head often when I talk to Daphne.)
"Absolutely," I agree.
Truth be told, I don't know how calculated the entire situation really is. Was she not on the pill intentionally? Was she never on the pill? Or did she stop taking it during date night #3, when the their close encounters led to this baby?
I think the final story is something along the lines of "I always forget to take my pill. So I try to double up when I can...."
Which is completely possible knowing Daphne.
Daphne is not the most reliable friend I have. She has trouble holding down a job, (which explains why she's living with her parents) has a hard time keeping a boyfriend, never remembers to pay bills, and although her intentions are good, her follow-through is usually lacking.
But her mood has never been better.
Ironically, I too, am pregnant. My husband and I planned this baby, so I don't have any multi-millionaire baby daddy to pick up our tab. In fact, as soon as my maternity leave is over, I'll be right back at work earning my living. It can be financially stressful, that's for sure. I've had plenty of sleepness nights trying to figure out which of my body parts I could sell in the black market to pay for daycare. My liver? A kidney?
But somehow, we're going to try to make it work. And I'm beginning to get rest again, hoping that the joys of parenthood will make all of the financial burden worth it in the end.
"Did I mention Warren is taking us to Napa?" Daphne adds. "He's hiring a nanny to help me during the day, and then at night he's taking me out with his friends to the unbelievable wineries. I need to go shopping, I have absolutely nothing to wear!"
Ching. ching. ching.
I have to admit. It does sound nice. I've never had a multi-millionaire picking up my tabs and flying me across the country to drink wine. But then again, a glass of pinot on the couch in my modest home with my husband still sounds a lot better than being a single-parent with a fat paycheck and no real support.
After living with her parents for the last 8 years, Daphne has finally hit the jackpot. The baby jackpot, that is. And life has never been so good.
"I'm so excited for you, really Daphne, if you need me to help with anything, just let me know," I reply honestly.
It's true I'm not even the slightest bit irritated about her situation. Although, maybe I have the right to be.
Here's the breakdown: Daphne got knocked up by a multi-millionaire about 11 months ago. And fortunately for her, he's a really nice guy. Stupid, I think, for not wrapping his wonderous wand in rubber, but very sweet nonetheless. This multi-millionaire, Warren, is picking up the tab on his new baby and baby mommy's life. Which includes the rent on a brand new 2 bedroom luxury condo just outside Washington DC for the both of them.
Warren, however, is continuing to live his bachelor lifestyle in either his beautiful pad in Manhattan, a penthouse in Washington, or his beach home in the Hamptons. Every other weekend, he's a baby daddy, but rest of his days are filled with business trips to exotic places, beautiful girlfriends eager for an expensive night out, and one-night stands found at his hotel lobby while having martinis at the bar with the guys. Don't worry about Warren, a baby and baby momma are not cramping his style.
"Yes, I'm going to redecorate the entire place," Daphne adds. "I totally need new furniture, the old stuff I once owned is in my parent's garage, and there is no way I'm using that. Warren says he'll cover all the expenses for the nursery, and of course, our monthly bills. I mean, if I'm home watching our baby, I can't also be working to pay for all this."
Ching. ching. ching. (that's the sound of a slot machine that just hit the BIGTIME. I hear it in my head often when I talk to Daphne.)
"Absolutely," I agree.
Truth be told, I don't know how calculated the entire situation really is. Was she not on the pill intentionally? Was she never on the pill? Or did she stop taking it during date night #3, when the their close encounters led to this baby?
I think the final story is something along the lines of "I always forget to take my pill. So I try to double up when I can...."
Which is completely possible knowing Daphne.
Daphne is not the most reliable friend I have. She has trouble holding down a job, (which explains why she's living with her parents) has a hard time keeping a boyfriend, never remembers to pay bills, and although her intentions are good, her follow-through is usually lacking.
But her mood has never been better.
Ironically, I too, am pregnant. My husband and I planned this baby, so I don't have any multi-millionaire baby daddy to pick up our tab. In fact, as soon as my maternity leave is over, I'll be right back at work earning my living. It can be financially stressful, that's for sure. I've had plenty of sleepness nights trying to figure out which of my body parts I could sell in the black market to pay for daycare. My liver? A kidney?
But somehow, we're going to try to make it work. And I'm beginning to get rest again, hoping that the joys of parenthood will make all of the financial burden worth it in the end.
"Did I mention Warren is taking us to Napa?" Daphne adds. "He's hiring a nanny to help me during the day, and then at night he's taking me out with his friends to the unbelievable wineries. I need to go shopping, I have absolutely nothing to wear!"
Ching. ching. ching.
I have to admit. It does sound nice. I've never had a multi-millionaire picking up my tabs and flying me across the country to drink wine. But then again, a glass of pinot on the couch in my modest home with my husband still sounds a lot better than being a single-parent with a fat paycheck and no real support.
posted by Jan32 at 12:01 PM
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