I think I may be pregnant and surprise, it is not Kevin Federline’s.
For the first time in my entire life, I am hoping that the EPT will display two pink lines instead of one. I was on my knees in the bathroom praying to God, Allah, Buddha, Tom Cruise and whoever else can help my procreation happen. I peeked at the test after only one minute to see a lone line and quickly placed it back on the sink for another 60 seconds as the directions said. This time I folded my hands, closed my eyes and promised God I would never make fun of Anna Nicole Smith again — at least until she is finally laid to rest, if he just granted me this one wish.
I gave the test an extra couple of nano-seconds to work a miracle and looked to discover still a single stripe. After taking the Lord’s name in vain for about five seconds, I went to the kitchen and shook myself up a stiff cosmo and toasted to at least another 28 days of pre-bald Britney behavior.
I am not preggers, nor would I particularly want to be at this point in my life and career, but if I was, it would definitely be Tom Brady’s love-child. Not that I have ever been in the same room, let alone the same bed, as the tantalizing thrower, but this guy is definitely the most desirable daddy.
Now you can see why I was asking the man upstairs for an Immaculate Conception. I mean imagine the perks, a lifetime of tickets to the Patriots, comped cocktails wherever I please, and a couple of vacation homes. But the one thing I wouldn’t have was him.
The QB cutie pulled the ultimate quarterback sneak by taking off on holiday to Paris with his new Brazilian beauty, Gisele Bundchen, while his ex gal-pal Bridget Moynahan announced she is with child. The Brady-Bundch has been spotted sharing smooches over candlelight dinners and strolling the Right Bank like a couple of J-E-T-S-jet-jet-jet setters.
The media has been speculating how could this have happened. Ahh, do they need to sit in on a seventh-grade sex ed class or watch an episode of The Real World: Denver to get up to speed?
The sports blogs are ripping Mommy Moynahan, saying she was trying to sack Brady into a lifetime commitment. I’m coming to her defense, like Matt Light does for him on the field. By now, Brady should know a thing or two about protection, but on a rare occasion when an agile little guy slips through you have to man up and take the fall gracefully without injuring yourself.
At this point, it seems that our beloved baller has put himself on the daddy disabled list. Here he is sipping French Bordeaux with a creature from the Glamazon under the Eiffel Tower and Moynahan is just trying to keep some Saltines down. Let’s hope that at this time next year, we’re not writing about Mommy Moynahan shaving her legs in a hotel pool somewhere — bald.
Maybe I should be thanking God, rather than praying for a miracle.
What should Brady’s next move be? E-mail lowellita@lowellsun.com.