tiny small!

Yesterday I made the acquaintance of not one but two brand new members of the human race.

First Mira, not even two weeks old yet, not even quite seven pounds yet, with nj’s inky hair and pianist hands and Morrisa’s velvety skin. She has a firm preference for sleeping upright on people’s chests, which I respect. When thwarted in this aim she mews furiously until obeyed. She is exquisite.

Then Angenie, nearly four weeks old now, sound asleep in the bustling Mifune noodle bar in Japantown, her mouth a perfect cupid’s bow.

I was squatting on my haunches over Angenie’s capsule, cooing at the beauty and perfection of her, when Shannon said: “Somebody wants a baby!” I ask you. You merely converse with a reputable infant and next thing you know, your friends and acquaintance are branding you broody. Please. Is this right is it fair? I already have a perfectly serviceable child, who, it is true, would make an excellent big sister… Oop. You nearly got me there, but I saw your cunning ploy in the nick of time.

So. Not broody, me. Nuh-uh. And soon I get to meet Korben Hugh and William John, yay!

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