November 06, 2007

Rainy night in the West Virginia backwoods. It was a warm day, disappointingly so for this time of year. From October 21st on, I expect to find a layer of frost laying quiet on the ground in the first, cold, wintery light of morning (ideally, one does not arise from bed until the first cold, wintery light of morning is already well-established, but the University rarely accepts that as an excuse), gray skies above,  crunchy, yellowed grass below. Balding trees, happy dogs. Apples or something.

But, no such luck. Heck of a weekend, though! My sister Jennifer was in town with her toddler son, Ryan, to attend my brother Jason and his wife Lorie's own baby shower. The kid's expected in December, but as for what gender it's gonna be, nobody's sayin'. Me, when it comes my time for parenthood, I'm just gonna ask up-front. I have a feeling that the first baby's going to present plenty enough big surprises for me post-birth even without that sudden pink-or-blue booties revelation. 

Ryan has been an absolute joy to spend time with -- excepting the frequent baby mood swings, when the joy is, how to say, diminished. Darned expressive kid, though, monster-stompin' and howlin' and tossing out the occasional word of decipherable English to great aplomb. Much of the visit was spent in grandparent-coaching, where my mother tried to get him to call her "Nanna," because it clearly filled her with great satisfaction whenever the appelation was successfully enunciated, and my father tried to get him to call HIM "Grandpa," because Ryan persists in calling him "Gramma." One hopes that'll get straightened out.

At any rate, that's an adorable kid. We Scotts have cute babies! Yes, we turn into horrible gorillas eventually, but by that time, it's too late. You're stuck with us.

You're stuck with ME.