I hadda baby, eeet's a boy...

You are nearly 7 months old, and still, sometimes when I say the words "my son," I find myself wondering who's talking. There's this irrational, giggly 12-year-old girl inside me who thinks I'm talking about my Cabbage Patch Kid (google it). Do 12 year olds have dolls? Fine. I was 8. And my doll, by the way, looked like this:

Hey, that's not you!!

Of course, the moment fades. And then I am overcome with a feeling of intense pride, as if by having a son I have accomplished something no one else in the entire world has. I almost feel the need to rub it in to the person I'm talking to. "That's right, I said MY SON. I have one! A real live boy! Not a doll!"

The End - you just woke up from your nap and your real live self is giving me a look...