SisterMeghanne got her gender-determining ultrasound yesterday, and my Dad got his April Fools/Birthday wish: a boychild and grandson!
We went to Auburn for the birthday dinner, and SisterMeghanne and my brother-in-law, the Argentinean Tattoo Artist, were so danged cute. “We’re having a boy!” they kept saying, to each other over their tamales and enchiladas, to Mom & Dad, to me and the husband, to the waitress.
“We’re having a boy!” squealed my 9-year old niece, hopping on her seat. She can’t wait to be a middle child, and has been practicing her diaper-changing skills on a neighbor baby (said baby’s parents are more than happy to let her!).
SisterMeghanne has to intentionally gain some weight now, the Argentinean wants to trade in his truck for a 10-passenger gas-guzzler of some kind to haul around the other 6 kids he blithely envisions, and the two of them–mercifully!– only asked three times when the husband and I will “get started with the kids already.” Mom wisely held off.
That’s the great thing about being the youngest: No pressure from the parents… shoot, they already have great-grandkids to keep track of. Give a girl some time!