The Italian didn't like any of them, even though we weren't even pregnant yet, we would fuss over the names, like "that's horrible" or "no! you have to admit, that's a good one!" The discussions would then degenerate into the Italian telling me he had his heart set on Bubba and Stump in counterpoint to my Esme and Gibraltar. Finally we agreed that he could name the boys and I would name the girls (first names only and the other spouse would choose the middle names). But, I warned him, if he settled on Bubba and Stump, his daughter would go through life carrying the Samantha Jeanpocket moniker. The children actually have great names that we both like, but in virtual reality, it's amusing to me to use Bubba, Stump, and SJP. But, I digress, this post is about the day Bubba was born, seven (short) years ago.
The story I tell him every year goes like this:
On the day you were born, I woke up early, very early. Daddy was already getting ready for work and I was afraid he had left.
I called downstairs, "Daddy, daddy! Today is the day the baby is coming."
But, he didn't hear me. So I called again, louder this time, "Daddy, daddy! Today is the day the baby is coming!"
But, he still didn't hear me so I yelled really, really loud: "DADDY! DADDY! TODAY IS THE DAY THE BABY IS COMING!"
And, that time he heard me and came running upstairs. "Are you sure?" he asked. I said, "Yes, I am positive." He said, "OK, let me call work and tell them." So he did and then I ate a bowl of Cheerios, called Gigi to tell here that today was the day and we got our stuff and got in the truck and drove to the hospital.
At the hospital, we waited and waited and waited some more. Gigi and The Norwegian came to wait with us and we waited all day. Finally, you arrived. They wrapped you up and put a little hat on your head and placed you near my heart and you looked up at me and we looked at each other and I smiled and said, "Oh my baby, you are finally here!"
Then you went with daddy to get your first bath and later they brought you to me and we snuggled and cuddled all night. You were so sweet and you kept stretching your arms and legs, a little further each time to see how far they could go. You picked your head up to look around and all the relatives and friends came to meet you.
We left the hospital together with Daddy and Gigi on a cold and gray January day. When we got home, we walked you through the house and said, "This is your home and we are so glad you are with us." We still are.
Happy Birthday, sweetheart.
Posted by The Editor