Intern’s Log: Teaching Canasta While Discussing My Wife’s Pregnancy (and Slowly Losing My Mind)

  Date: [The Game of Cards and Existential Terror]

  Intern ID: Reynolds, J. (I don’t know how my life got to this point, but here we are.)

  So.

  I am teaching a war bear, a fox woman, a raccoon crime lord, and my pregnant wife how to play Canasta.

  ? We just survived a war with the Architects.

  ? Reality is stabilizing.

  ? The Fixed Points are forming, ensuring that we’re not erased.

  ? And yet, somehow, the most stressful thing in my life right now is my wife’s pregnancy.

  And I am talking about it while trying to explain the rules of a card game.

  Because that’s just how my life works now.

  Phase One: The Setup

  We’re sitting at the table.

  The cards are shuffled.

  The stakes are nonexistent, because I refuse to let Bandit gamble real money in my house.

  I clear my throat.

  "Alright. This is Canasta. It’s a card game about building melds, managing your hand, and screwing over your opponents in ways they won’t see coming."

  Bandit immediately perks up.

  "Ohhh. I like this already."

  Goldie tilts her head.

  "It is a game of strategy?"

  "Kind of. It’s also a game of ruining friendships."

  Vicky grins.

  "Perfect."

  Evelyn leans back in her chair, one hand on her stomach.

  "I just want to see how long it takes before Bandit tries to cheat."

  Bandit gasps.

  "I would never."

  Everyone gives him a look.

  He grins.

  "Fine. I would not get caught."

  I ignore this and start dealing.

  Phase Two: The Conversation Takes a Turn

  "So, Evelyn, how’s the pregnancy treating you?" Vicky asks, picking up her cards.

  My wife gives her a look.

  "Would you like the polite answer or the truth?"

  Vicky smirks.

  "Oh, always the truth."

  Evelyn sighs.

  "I feel like I’m housing a sentient bowling ball. My back hurts. I can’t sleep. And your husband keeps panicking every time I so much as exhale too hard."

  I blink.

  "That is a gross exaggeration."

  Evelyn slowly turns to me.

  "Reynolds. Last night, I rolled over, and you woke up in a panic and demanded to know if I was in labor."

  Goldie nods in approval.

  "A good mate is always vigilant."

  "SEE?" I say, pointing.

  Evelyn groans.

  "Goldie, do not encourage him."

  Phase Three: The Gharial Factor

  Goldie tilts her head.

  "You humans have such a fragile reproductive process."

  Vicky nods.

  "I still don’t understand how you function. One offspring at a time? Months of carrying it? The risk of complications? It’s madness."

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  Bandit grins.

  "Oh, trust me, ladies, nobody is suffering more than my man Reynolds here."

  I scoff.

  "Oh, please, Bandit, I am handling this like a perfectly rational adult."

  Evelyn arches a brow.

  "Reynolds, last week you asked Gary if Gharials had ever carried their young in their mouths and if that would be a safer alternative."

  Goldie looks genuinely intrigued.

  "Would it be?"

  Vicky snickers.

  "I imagine Evelyn would object to being carried around in his jaws for the remainder of her pregnancy."

  Evelyn pinches the bridge of her nose.

  "I cannot believe I am having this conversation."

  Bandit leans back in his chair, grinning.

  "I can."

  Phase Four: My Mental Decline is on Display

  I shuffle my hand, ignoring them.

  "Alright, let’s focus. You need two natural cards and a wild card to start a meld."

  Goldie nods seriously.

  "And the purpose of this game is to build a superior hand while reducing your opponent’s options."

  "Exactly."

  Bandit throws a red three on the table.

  "I play this."

  "That’s not how this works."

  "It is now."

  "BANDIT—"

  Evelyn leans in.

  "Speaking of things that don’t work—Reynolds, you need to stop hovering over me at night."

  I pause.

  "I do not hover."

  Vicky tilts her head.

  "Last time I visited, I caught you sneaking into bed at 2 AM just to check if she was breathing."

  Goldie nods approvingly.

  "A proper mate ensures the safety of his offspring at all times."

  Evelyn glares.

  "You are not helping."

  Phase Five: What Even is Victory Anymore?

  "I just want to be prepared!" I say, throwing down my cards.

  "Reynolds, I am the one having the baby! YOU are not the one who needs to be prepared!"

  "I beg to differ! I have seen things, Evelyn! Reality itself has collapsed multiple times! ALIENS ARE SENDING GIFTS! WHAT IF THE BABY COMES OUT COSMIC?!"

  Bandit wipes away a tear from laughing.

  "Oh my god, I love this."

  Vicky leans over to Evelyn.

  "How long do you think before he builds a containment chamber just in case?"

  Evelyn sighs.

  "He already started designing one."

  I glare.

  "IT’S A SAFETY MEASURE."

  Goldie nods approvingly.

  "A wise choice."

  Bandit falls out of his chair from laughing.

  Final Thoughts (This Game is Never Going to Finish, Is It?)

  ? Pregnancy is apparently the most stressful event I have ever experienced, and I have fought gods.

  ? The Uplifted continue to judge human biology for being too slow.

  ? I am, in fact, hovering too much, but I refuse to stop.

  ? Bandit is enjoying my suffering more than anyone else.

  ? Goldie thinks my paranoia is entirely justified.

  ? Vicky is here for the drama.

  ? We have not finished a single round of Canasta.

  I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

  But I do know this—

  By the time this child is born, I am either going to be the most prepared father in the universe or a broken shell of a man.

  End Log.