Baby!

I recently became an uncle. Which required no amount of work on my part, but still people congratulate me on it for some odd reason.

The real congratulations should be reserved, of course, for my sister, Melissa, who was introduced to the hardly magical experience of child-bearing. To omit details of her particularly unpleasant pregnancy, I just want to thank the Almighty for the mercy he extended me in giving me a penis instead.

Er, yes, so Baby's name is Kaitlin. Thus she is hereby presdestined to be The Kaitlin on her girl's soccer team. Her teammates will consist of The Kaylee, The Kayla, The Karli, The Katie, The Kaycee, The Kelsy, and The Kristi, to name some.

We were all pretty sure it was going to be a girl, but there were some doubts. Last year a psychic (I know) told Melissa a little boy was "trying to come into the world," so she and her boyfriend should be on their guard. OK, now fast-forward six months later to their sonogram appointment:

The science showed, on the contrary, a 75% chance of the baby having no gumdrops, and with the risk of offending Ms. Kathy Whitedove that's the analysis we went with. After seeing baby Kaitlin, my mom was not only elated with becoming a grandma, but also relieved that an eBay Sell-off Extravaganza of pink booties was now officially unnecessary.

My dad is another story. As much as he loves the little baby monkey, a 50th birthday and the new title of "Grandpa" within days of each other is one-two punch of pure mortal trauma. This is a pain that can only be relieved, they say, by having a Corvette. Which he already does -- it's been in the garage for over ten years, in fact. It's as if my dad has long prepared for "Mid-life Crisis 2: The Revenge," but we'll see if it helps any.

Whatever our personal situations are, we're all very happy that baby Kaitlin is thriving despite being dragged out 5 weeks premature. Also, if she is indeed my sister's daughter, it will mark the only time she will ever be early for anything.