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May 17, 2010 04:35

 Not-so-many years ago, a boy was born on the most holy of days in Ireland, March 17th. He was a very lucky child, having had the good fortune to be born on Saint Patrick's Day, and he had an amazing life. His fathers loved him, he was raised with an aunt that became his best friend, and eventually he had siblings to love, protect, and torment.

When he was in his late teens, he met a prince in a very non-Disney way: the prince stabbed the boy (by accident). Over the course of the boy's recovery, his prince hovered and fretted and prostrated himself at the boy's feet. Over time, they created a bond, one that would lead them from friendship to love. After the boy became a man, the prince began courting his love, and with the blessing of both their families, they began a life of love and romance, and married. It was perfect.

Recently, though happy together and satisfied with their lives, they began to dream of more. The boy's sister and brothers were still adorable, and at the center of his and the prince's world (along with the prince's own younger sisters), but they wanted more. They wanted a family all their own. After much talking (and some arguing), they came to an agreement. They would start looking into their options.

Soon, in the relatively near future, the boy and his prince are going to become parents.

(That's right, bitches. I'm gonna be a DADDY!)
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