It's a girl. Oh well, there goes my grand plan of moulding another Benji Marshall or Dan Carter. That's fine, the women's golf and tennis circuits pay well too. Just joking.
Mia and the new little girl who's set to arrive sometime in April can play what ever sport they like. As long as it's not synchronised swimming.
My wife and I won't be giving it another whirl in the hope of having a boy either. Two kids are enough thank you very much and I'm happily resigned to being a dad dominated by my three girls. Again, I'm kidding, because I'm chuffed we're having another girl.
As a mate and I were saying, girls are (usually) lovely, whereas boys are (often) loud, house wrecking, brawlers.
And apparently, early on, boys' wee goes everywhere because of that out of control appendage of theirs.
Girls seems to be far easier to handle. Until they get to their teens that is which is when a GPS tracking device will no doubt be just as essential as some good solid parenting.
Maybe they'll even have standard issue microchip trackers available by the time my girls get to their teens?
So I'm destined for a future of fairy parties, pony rides, and play kitchens (instead of one of those cool work benches with a vice, hammer, and make believe power tools).
On a more practical - and boring - note we'll save lots of money on clothes, dolls, and other toys.
But there will not be a little mini me running around. Nor will there be any dad-son time.
Don't get me wrong, a father and daughter bond is beautiful. I can't wait for the morning when she runs in and jumps into our bed and snuggles in. But there's a unique punch-in-the-arm type bond between a father and son.
Oh well, nevermind. I adore my girls and can't wait to add another to the bunch.
And besides, Mia is good at catching and booting a ball already. She won a gold medal at play ball at creche this week. She's on the road to sporting success already.
Next stop, Wimbledon.
My three girls
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