THE BEST THING ON PREPARING FOR PARENTHOOD I'VE EVER READ!!

Okay, I bow down to Tracy Moore, who wrote this beauty of a piece for "JEZEBEL," entitled: "You’re So Not Almost Ready for a Baby, Even If You Think You Are." 

Yep. You win, Tracy. Your one-pager beats any long-winded treatise I've ever written in trying to convince prospective parents to think it over. You are the champ.

To read the whole piece, click on the links above. But here for your enjoyment is the best bullet list ever, Tracy's "Baby Squad™ Fitness Program for Actual Baby Readiness.", it would come with the following drills/regimen for the entire year prior to conception:

            Practice wrestling a large, slippery fish three times a week.

            Wake up every two hours at night, punch yourself in the face, walk around for 28 minutes pleading in jibberish. Go back to "sleep." Repeat.

            Socialize with friends in 18-second increments.

            Practice asking for the check, boxing up your food and exiting a restaurant in under sixty seconds — two bites into the meal.

            Watch 38% of any film or television show; never see the ending or resolution.

            Read the same three paragraphs of a novel once every two weeks; fall asleep.

            Shower every three to five days, but only for two minutes.

            Hire a makeup artist to make you up to look 10 years older. Look at yourself in the mirror, then laugh, cry, laugh, cry, laugh, cry. Do not go get a drink.

            Pack two additional bags of random stuff to carry with you every time you leave the house.

            Stand around a tennis court and catch fly balls with one hand for two hours a day while also preparing a peanut butter sandwich.

            Practice wrestling aforementioned large, slippery fish, then dress it in seasonally appropriate outfit, including hat and/or jacket. Then go back, remove all clothing, and apply sunscreen. Re-dress fish.

            Memorize The Cat in the Hat, then repeat every evening between 7 p.m. and 8 p.m.

            Make 24 hours of baby-crying audio; hit play the moment you take a phone call, fire up your computer, or begin speaking any sentences to another human that contain important or useful information.

            Imagine a mental written list of your responsibilities for each day, tear it in
         half, burn one piece, take a shit (literally) on the other one.