It was long after work was over on a Friday night when the dammed red light on the Blackberry showed up. Unable to resist the lure of a new email, even though it would probably be work-related and cease my easing into the weekend, I read it anyway. The message was from a colleague who sympathized with my plight about the Wii. But with the communication came hope in the form of a forwarded news article that said a few national electronics chains were getting in small shipments of Wiis the week before Christmas.
The smell of opportunity was in the air, so the calls began. Saturday and Sunday yielded no leads. Monday was the same story. I didn’t have high hopes for Tuesday as the phone to Best Buy rang and rang. I almost hung up when a woman finally answered.
“I don’t suppose you have any Wiis in stock this morning, do you?” I sheepishly asked.
“Actually, we do. About 15 of them left.”
My heart began to race, but I need to play it cool. “How many people are in the store right now?”
“It’s pretty empty.” She said.
On a normal day, I was less than a 10 minute drive from the store. But it was raining and this is Los Angeles. An excruciating 20 minute journey later, I arrived. The lady was right. The store was nearly empty, save for a few people lined up at the sales counter. There they were, shining like a beacon on a dark night. I had done it. I scored a Wii before Christmas.
But there would be no video games for me. Not yet. I had to be patient and endure an entire work day and a soggy commute home. I felt a pang of guilt for watching the clock leading up to the Bean’s bed time. My wife knew exactly why I was so eager to volunteer to run him through his nighttime routine. Despite her scornful attitude, Jules was grateful because morning sickness was having its way with her. Soon, a bath was taken. Pajamas put on. Milk drank. Stories read. “Mary Had a Little Lamb” sung. The rest of the night was mine.
It was all worth it because the Wii is so much fun. I feel like a kid, itchy to be home and playing with it again.
- - - - - - - - - - -
It felt strange at first to tell everyone the big news last week. It’s been really hard to keep the secret this time. I’m learning that with a second pregnancy comes a greater sense of calm. It’s not as new and not as scary. I wasn’t as worried to get past the first trimester as I was with the Bean. The calm is nice.
I wish I could say the same for Jules, who’s having a much rougher go of it this time around. The first time around, morning sickness was on a schedule and it was punctual—arriving every few days, in the evening. This one has been more troublesome, though. It’s been unpredictable and a lot more present. It’s weakened her immune system, so she always seems to have symptoms of a cold. She’s been pretty miserable and I must standby, watching and knowing that there is very little that I can do. She’s also had to suffer in silence while we kept the news of the Sprout to ourselves. Now that we are out, at least she can wear her sea-bands in public and not have to make up excuses to cover up her nausea.
Ah pregnancy is such a beautiful thing.