For the last few weeks I have been Googling pregnancy sites and the expansive baby internet trying to educate myself, get the lay of the land, that sort of thing. What I’ve discovered is that the way Pam and I did things over three decades ago was all wrong. Not just wrong but criminal, and in some cases potentially deadly! Laying a child on their stomach in a crib? What were we thinking?! Did you know that car seats have an expiration date? Apparently my go-to make a kid laugh game—“ride a horse to Boston, ride a horse to Lynn, be careful little baby that you don’t fall in!!”—is a non-starter. It might do damage to their spinal column!
So, I’ve got a lot to learn about being a Grandfather. Luckily, for the past ten years or so I have been in training with the Garland kids next door. We have watched the three of them, ages 13, 11 and 9 grow up. We have fed them treats, bought them presents, terrorized them with my leaf-blower and watched them drive their parents crazy. It’s been a wonderful apprenticeship. But we are ready for the big leagues now.
We will discover the sex of the child this weekend. I don’t care whether it’s a boy or a girl. I was very much invested in this sort of thing back when we were having kids, back before I realized just how miraculous any new life is. I’ll be over the moon either way.
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