Welome Stranger...

Doug, my son-in-law, and I exchanged knowing glances as the superdooper deallybopper thingy glided over Katie's abdomen. (Sorry for using technical terms, but I played doctor as a child.) We were at the doctor's office for the baby ultrasound and the picture on the screen was unmistakable. There HE was. In fact, the technician remarked that he was at that very moment hanging on to his "he" thing as we gawked. (For the record, my grandson appears to be sporting the Milton Berle model.)

Son of a gun! Both of us knew what this meant. Doug was getting an early look at the guy who would one day wreck his car and cost him bail money. I reminded him that though it was time to start saving for both of those inevitabilities he could at least look forward to getting a pass on wedding expenses. There is compensation for everything.

I also reminded him that he was about to save a fortune on clothing too. Little boys can go at least twenty years in t-shirts and bluejeans. (I've managed to stretch it to 61.) And...when it comes to entertainment, all you need is a good jar for catching bugs and frogs and maybe a sack for bringing home funky looking rocks. Sweet!

Granted, there is frustration ahead with regard to getting the kid to bunt when he wants to swing away. And, don't get me started on the infield fly rule! But, overall, boys are pretty easy to handle until they get big enough to do that "wreck the car" thing and the "felony" thing. (Not to mention that reckoning that comes when your own son is big enough to knock you into the next county.) That's when raising girls starts to look like wining the lottery.

The kids haven't decided on a name yet, but they have until October. I've suggested Delbert and Dewey and have met great resistance on both. However, the middle name "Danger" is a lock. That is an idea too superior for words. "Danger is my middle name." Freaking brilliant!!! Chicks will dig it.

The best news of all as far as this soon-to-be grandpa is concerned is this: Starting this holiday season I will have company at the kids table. Food fights and bad behavior until milk comes out our noses will reign for years to come.

The world is spinning in greased grooves.