ARIES: Pamper yourself. You deserve it. No seriously, put on a diaper.
TAURUS: Your teenage son has impregnated Brandy, the neighborhood bitch. Thankfully, Brandy is only a labradoodle.
GEMINI: Everything you and your wife thought you'd lost since the birth of your triplets will finally be found -- by the vacuum guy at the car wash. Tell him he can keep the spontaneous Friday night pub crawls and extended cycles of R.E.M. sleep, but ask him to kindly hand over your wife's perky breasts and vaginal elasticity.
CANCER: Blinded by exhaustion, you'll mistakenly upgrade your 8-week-old's texting plan. And breastfeed your eighth grader.
LEO: You will be tarred and feathered by a gang of PTA mothers after they hear you admit you hate monogrammed clothing.
VIRGO: After a botched at-home haircut on your toddler, you convince your son that the name Vincent is totally awesome. And so is oil painting.
LIBRA: You'll begin having a recurring dream that takes place in Higglytown. Six years from now, your subconscious will remember to bring a flask of gin.
SCORPIO: You will win a maroon, stick-shift, pre-owned Kia Sedona minivan. With no DVD player.
SAGITTARIUS: Unfortunately, those temporary SpongeBob tattoos on your 4-year-old's forehead aren't temporary after all.
CAPRICORN: That au pair you hired, the one that's really complicated to send back to the Phillipines, ends up being a dead ringer for Rachael Ray, minus the cooking ability.
AQUARIUS: You'll find the only thing that keeps your child from having public tantrums is for you to dress in a leotard.
PISCES: You're always complaining: "I don’t have eight hands, people!" Well, now you do. As well as a tail.