That’s right, my strong womanly intuition has proven itself, once again . . . not very strong. The little baby we are soon to be having is the little boy kind of baby.
This will introduce us to a whole new world – a world of little rough and tumble trouble making boys growing up together. Yes we have two boys, but they are eight years apart, and then there are just sisters sisters sisters everywhere else you look. What will we do with two closely spaced boy children? I hardly know what to make of it.
Oh, and name, you ask? No. No name. Little man is as nameless as any tiny baby has ever been. Abe we knew quickly; our girls we couldn’t decide ‘til the hospital, but it wasn’t for lack of a name – it was for not being able to choose which of many cute names; and Jesse, we didn’t decide until he was born, but I kind of always knew he would be Jesse. This fella though? There doesn’t seem to be any name in all of creation that could possibly be right. It makes me sad. I’d like to name our little son.
Anyway, that’s alright about my surety that this was a girl being wrong. Sometimes it is fun to think you know what present you are about to open – only to open it and find a totally different gift.
Little man, I’m sure that, once I am holding you in my arms, I will think how preposterous it was that I could have ever thought you should be anything else but exactly perfectly you.