My angry uterus is baby hungry.

It wants to digest a baby.  Oh wait, I mean, gestate a baby.  Man, that would be an embarrassing mistake.

Many of you may be rolling your eyes, questioning why on earth we would want to bring more Neff's into the world.

Aside from the fact that our children are practically perfect in every way, I've always wanted 4.  It's a nice, round, even number.  No middle child.  Middle children are just...weird.  I can say that because I'm an only child, and we're weird too.

Plus, Chloe seems to be enjoying being the baby of the family a little too much, and we can't be having that.  We wouldn't want her to be happy or anything.  So, it would be in her best interest if she was no longer the baby.

These are all excellent reasons to have another baby.

Now how to get Brett on board with this?

It's too late in the year to count the new baby as a tax deduction.  It wouldn't be born until next year...hmm...let's think...

Jump at him from behind a corner and scare him!

No, that only works for the hiccups.

Convince him that if we had 4 kids instead of 3, our mini-van would make more sense and therefore the extra car payment would be worth it.

No, I'm not even convinced of that.

Oh well.  I'll just grab him by the collar and tell him what's what.  Put that baby in my belly!  The other other white meat.