1,000 Good Mornings by Keith Krass

Despite appearances, it's not a Gummybear 

I'm pretty sure I'll never forgot Tuesday, May 7. Sarah and I were going to see the band Needtobreathe with her brother Daniel. The plan was for me and Daniel to come from Gordon (where I work and he is a student) to our apartment, pick up Sarah and head down to the House of Blues. Sarah called me around 3PM asking if I could come home first, then go back to Gordon to pick up Daniel.

This made no sense to me.

But I acquiesced, thinking Sarah just wanted some "alone time" before heading into Boston. When when I got home she said, "You know those pants I just bought? I don't think they are going to fit anymore." I responded with a thoroughly confused, "Ummmmmm, Ooooookkkkkkkkk. I don't think you need to, but do you want to return them." Sarah, thinking she was being quite obvious, looked at me with a tint of frustration and said, this time a bit less subliminally, "I bought a pregnancy test."

At this point, two things were going through my mind: This is either really good news or really bad news. Truthfully, I had no idea how to respond (I was a bit slow to pick up on what was going on). I think I mustered a weak, "And?"

"I'M PREGNANT!"

My emotions at this moment were probably best summed up this way:

I felt like I did at this moment:

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