We dropped the Maldonados off at the airport this morning, and on our way home Jack and I were both dejected. And the car was almost too quiet. So we started talking, and that conversation inevitably turned to the baby.
"How do you know it's a girl baby Jack?" I asked.
"Because of Gob." (Said my son, the pee-wee prophet, which is amazing because he's been to church exactly twice in his life, both times for funerals. I don't know where his heavenly influence comes from...certainly not from DAN.) I didn't know how to reply to this, so I asked him what the baby's name was going to be.
"Cheeto." He announced.
"Tee-toe?" I asked (Jack does not always enunciate).
"NO, I said 'CHEETO.'"
"So we're having a girl baby, and her name is Cheeto?" I asked. "Did God tell you that too?"
"No, Daddy did."
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