Leon

Speaking of babies, at some point near the end of November, another generation of self-deprecation, encyclopedic music knowledge, and deceptive foot speed will be unleashed on the world.

Reactions thus far have ranged from guarded optimism ("Oh, uh, that's, um, nice?") to concern ("Is Jessie okay with this?") to more concern ("You're not really going to name it Leon, are you?") to horror ("Sweet Jesus, not another. Not another.") to confusion ("I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong number.") to skepticism ("Is it yours?") to outright denial ("It can't be yours.") to esoteric ("Just as the prophecy foretold.") to congratulatory ("Congratulations."). Stay tuned to this week's Midwestern Eavesdropping to see which one was my mom's reaction.

So, for the next six months, expect hilarious stories about the approximate size of our spawn (a lemon, a small woodchuck, a human fetus, etc.), Jester eating crazy food combinations ("A cheeseburger pizza topped with rocky road ice cream and pickled beets, again Jester? Mama mia!"), and being forced to watch videos of natural child birth. Beyond that, expect hilarious stories about pooping, stroller races, and the like.

Needless to say, we're extremely excited. Aside from a steady stream of vomit, Jessie is doing well so far. She has been a trooper. I've been doing fine too, although drinking for two is harder than it seems, but at least Jessie has someone to commiserate with about the vomiting.

Also, for those of you who thought there was something awry by the fact that I posted about baby names a couple weeks ago, I assure you that was actually purely coincidental, as the Social Security Administration happened to release the 2008 list of baby names that week. I would have written that post regardless of the then-lime-sized being living in Jessie's womb, as evidenced by my similar post in 2006 and my general history of poking fun at unusual names.