The Top 16 Signs You're About to have Septuplets

16. When listening for fetal heartbeat, doctor hears sounds of a game of water polo.

15. Your womb has more kicks than the Rockettes and those Riverdance bozos combined.

14. On the way to the hospital, your water breaks and your convertible becomes a mobile hot tub.

13. The turf war between local Pampers and Luvs sales reps is escalating.

12. You feel extremely nauseous and distressed -- and you're not watching a Pauly Shore movie.

11. Your water breaks to the sound of hammering and animals shuffling by in pairs.

10. Well, it's either setuplets or that 30 lb. ovarian cyst acting up again.

9. Fire Marshall hassles you about being in violation of maximum occupancy laws.

8. There are many people inside you and you're not Madonna.

7. Other pregnant women: as big as a house. You: as big as Bill Gates's house.

6. Stork on front lawn yells, "How 'bout a little help out here!?"

5. You're dilated to the size of the Lincoln Tunnel and your doctor has started yodeling.

4. Court order from Disney warning you to avoid copyright infringements when naming the children.

3. Your sonogram had an intermission.

2. Need to wear an extra watch because your body spans two time zones.

and the Number 1 Sign You're About to have Septuplets...

1. Forget about gentle kicks -- your abdomen feels like the mosh pit at a Green Day concert.

Runners Up

Compared to you, Marlon Brando has a washboard stomach.

Delivering doctor starts humming Brady Bunch theme.

Husband starts writing "Top 7 Reasons We Ain't Gonna Have Kids No More" lists.

IRS contacts you asking if they can have an extension on the refund payment.

Maternity clothes manufactured with front end drive.

People think that the "Running of the Bulls" is dangerous -- just let em see you in a Baskin-Robbins.

Several times a day, mommy's tummy does the wave.

The Doublemint Twins make you 14 times as sick as they used to.

The cause of the Malaysian pickle shortage has been tracked to your local 7-11.

The wailing and crying, the lack of sleep, the drooling, the pacing, and you still have to break the news to HIS parents.

You change the settings on the dishwasher with your bellybutton.

You displace more water than the yacht your pediatrician just bought.

You get this sudden feeling that welfare is a good thing, and you're a Republican.

You start searching for a soft and secluded spot in the closet in which to give birth.

You're wearing the new fall creations of Omar the Tentmaker.

Your HMO recommends that you spend *two* nights at the hospital.

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