I diagnosed my wife's recent mood changes and behavioral abnormalities as the beginning stage of menopause.  I'm not a doctor; I never even played one on TV, but I have watched enough commercials on Lifetime and A&E to know menopause when I see it.
 
This diagnosis, combined with the ages of our children (the twins are high school seniors and their sisters are both in middle school this year), caused me to begin planning for the empty nest years.
 
Refinance the house, let the kids pay the mortgage, and buy a beachfront condo.  Play tennis with my wife. Go to the beach with my wife.  Walk on the boardwalk with my wife.
 
"I don't want to think about seven years from now," John, was the invariable response from her side of the bed.
 
Nevertheless I plugged on.  Learn to play Bridge.  Take cruises, go to Atlantic City once a month.
 
"I don't want to think about…Did you say Atlantic City?  We could do that."
 
So we did.  It was the perfect time to find out if we still had something to talk about when, "I'll drop Gina at soccer and take Freddie to hockey and you drop Marie at play practice and take Serena to Girl Scouts" was taken out of the equation.
 
We had a wonderful weekend, so wonderful that as we sat on the beach my wife said, jokingly, "It's a good thing I'm going through menopause or we might have something else to bring home from Atlantic City."
 
Ha Ha Ha.
 
It's fun to joke about pregnancy when it can't happen to you.
 
We named the baby Sandy (Johnny).