Meet the Squishy
May 10, 2005
Pictures! Many, many pictures. All of which I am going to make you look at.
I am sorry, but clearly, this is the cutest baby in the history of ever. The nose! The toes! The "Oy vey, all this poking is giving me a headache" pose!
I AM SKELETOR, FROM THE PLANET EYE SOCKET FURY OMICRON 8. ALL YOUR CHEERIOS ARE BELONG TO US.
Jason: You know, because it's a boy? Our chances of giving birth to the antichrist are bigger now.
Amy: Did you just imply that our precious unborn son is going to be the antichrist?
Jason: DAMIEN! IT'S ALL FOR YOU!
Our ultrasound technician was a highly nervous and excitable Indian man who at one point stopped the exam to order Jason back to his little chair after he'd gotten up to get a closer look at the television screen.
Ultrasound Tech Man: I am sorry, sir, but I am afraid I will not be comfortable if you keep creeping up behind me like that, sir.
Jason: Okay... (sits back down, looks at Amy like, what, did he think I was going to knock him out and go on the lam with a stolen ultrasound machine?)
Ultrasound Tech Man: Look at that beautiful little arm!
Okay, I'll admit it. Like the vast majority of my readers, I thought I was having a girl. I just assumed that since I'm a girl, my body would naturally only produce its own kind. A boy is like, a different species or something.
The idea that I've created a little man, with little man parts, kind of blows my mind.
After showing us the boy parts, he turned around and gave us a look at his bottom, which I just want to pinch because it's so cute.
I am going to spend a lot of money on diapers for that little butt.
Amy: What if he doesn't like me?
Jason: (leans over, kisses Amy on forehead) Don't worry, baby, he's going to hate you.
(Don't you love our sense of humor? Don't you think we're totally ready to be parents?)
I can't say I'd blame him for hating me, though, if this habit of posting pictures of his little private parts with big arrows continues much longer.
This is my son. My little tiny man. I promise to play sports with you and tell you that it's okay to cry sometimes and whether that shirt goes with those pants.
I can't wait to meet you.