Two weeks ago, today, Marta and I stumbled upon something that may be the news of the century (well, maybe the year.)

There we were at Small Group, engaging in friendly conversation around the kitchen, when it happened: a simple exchange between two people that we love.

Annie looked at Taylor and whispered under her breath “we need to tell Mom and Dad…. soon.” A worried expression filled her face. Taylor put his arm protectively around her shoulders and squeezed.

I looked at Marta.

Marta looked at me.

We knew it: They were pregnant.

Not being able to bare the suspense, Marta and I left shortly after – we had some serious processing to do. Tannie was left in the kitchen with the small group leaders (we should have known better than to let that happen).

After 10 minutes of screaming in the car, we arrived back at home and were greeted by a text from our small group leader (Brad) (the very same one who had been left alone with Tannie in the kitchen…): “have you heard the news?”

“NEWS? WHAT NEWS?” I just about blew a gasket as I replied on my touch-screen phone (which I love) (If you want to know exactly how much I love my phone, click HERE)

“nevermind” was his reply.  I think you can see where this conversation went: NOWHERE. Marta and I went to bed bewildered, but enlightened.  We knew what information he was talking about. He just didn’t know that we knew.

The story picks up the following week… at small group… again.  We carefully watched Tannie’s interactions and payed attention to what they said, ate, and drank. It was obvious by some of Annie’s dietary choices that we were correct – there was a baby coming.  No caffeine. No ice cream. She basically spelled it out for us.

Just to be sure, however, Marta and I cornered Brad in the breeze way… we had some questions to ask him and we weren’t going to let him go until we had our answer. He spoke very vaguely… indicating that (in time) we would hear the news (he even specified “less than 9 months”). Finally, I decided we needed to get things out on the table: “BRAD.” I stated in a whisper, closing the door to keep inquiring ears from overhearing “If Annie is pregnant and that’s the big secret… here’s some news: We already know. Just tell us.”  Brad, being as helpful as ever, answered: “I’m not at liberty to disclose this information.”

Needless to say, our 10 minute drive home that night was basically a repeat of the week before. Lots of screaming and scheming. We were on to them.

Superbowl Sunday is when my whole world came crashing down. Tannie came over to watch the game, and as conversation progressed, it became evident that Annie was, in fact, not pregnant. I tried not to allow my face to show too much surprise (found out later, I have a very good poker face. Who knew?).  I darted the the closet to text my confederates (I’d recruited several people to do some digging) and informed them of the news. (or lack thereof).

You may think that this is the end of the story… but, my friend, the end did not come until tonight… at small group (again).  Somehow, in the kitchen (the place of all truth), it was revealed that Tannie had known of our suspicions the ENTIRE time! The “worried look” had been because she saw us look at each other and thought “they think I’m pregnant!”.  The “protective hug”… well… they’re newlyweds.  The text? They’d roped Brad into the whole mess. And, as for the news… An upcoming trip (which is not quite as exciting as a pink, 8-pound mini-me)

Everything I know is a lie.