Attack of the Killer Babies!!!!!!!

All of my friends have reached that life stage where they are spawning babies faster than I can knit booties. Maybe I could pursuade them to try footbinding; sure its crippling and horribly painful, but if it gives me a leg up on my knitting....Just joking.
The latest baby got spawned over the weekend. My friend (the new daddy) sent my Best Beloved and I pictures. Very cute. The perfect bootie model.
It brought to mind the incident a few weeks ago where my Best Beloved and I suddenly realized that I was not just "late", but "very late" and began to fear that we too might add to the baby trend. We are not baby people. We like them when we can give them back. So it was with great trepidation that we bought a test (two, actually) and I took it.
How many college students does it take to read the results of an EPT?
Sadly, at least two. Neither of us could wait to see what was in the screen, so hearts in throats we stood around the bathroom counter ignoring the old adage about watched pots. It came out. Sort of.
"What the hell?" My Best Beloved demanded, grabbing onto the handle and turning it in a circle.
"Ew. Don't touch that!" I could not believe he touched that. Then I saw what he saw. "What is that?" I wondered out loud. "Modern art or something?"
We stared at it longer. One window had a blue line, like it was supposed to. The window next to it had one blue line for negative, and then a sort of hint of a swishy blue line in the background.
"What the hell?" We said it simultaneously.
"Does the swishy blue line mean positive?" There was panic in his voice. I sympathized; the idea of getting fat and having stretch marks for the rest of my life didn't thrill me.
"It had better not". I glared at him.
"Hey! You act like I did this all on my own! I do remember you helping."
I chose to ignore that. "Lets hope you didn't do anything".
"Me? You're the one with the whole baby making apparatus thingy!"
Panic makes people stupid. Would you believe he's a science major?
The directions called for a one week wait before retesting. It was an unpleasant week, while I wondered how to do childcare and classwork and he kept volunteering (way too readily for someone claiming to love school) to drop out for the good of all. I finally retested and got cleared. Thank the gods of my chosen sterility.
After we read the results, we were sitting in the livingroom on our respective computers playing on the internet and generally being not sociable. He finally broke the silence by looking over at me, smiling goofily and saying "you know, maybe I do want kids".
I threw a sofa pillow at him.