Recently, Wife took #10 out with her to go wedding dress shopping for my sister. The party was made up of five sisters, my mother, and #10. A fun group of women and girls, traipsing from dress shop to dress shop, not like hunters on the prowl, but more like butterflies, flitting from pretty thing to pretty thing, wondering if the wind might guide them to the perfect blossom. All the while, the baby held on like a little chimp, not sure what all the fuss was about.
We really had no idea how easy-going our boys were as babies until the last seven months. And if you took the time to count back, it would be as plain as unflavored yogurt, that was when #10 made her debut. Not to say she came out with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. No, she was a screech-owl in baby clothing.
The time had come for #10 to join the Church’s family. Her baptism was Saturday, and my uncle, who is a priest, performed the Mass and baptized our little girl. The celebration at my grandparent’s ranch followed. Wife had the whole thing planned out, appetizers, drinks, buffet, and dessert. This time, she left nothing to chance. But you can never tell just how things will come together. You see… here, just let me show you. Continue reading
It was about 3:45 in the morning. I could not tell you whether the moon was shining, or if the stars were bright. I was behind several feet of concrete, in the birth wing of the hospital were a ray of sunshine had just been born. #10 finally arrived.