It's time, I suppose, for babytalk...

Several times in the past weeks, the lady has wondered aloud why I have thus far failed to mention in these ethereal pages the growing bundle of joy she carries in her gut these days.

Well, here it is, the worldwide photo debut of our child:



This is the baby, displaying the razor-sharp sense of humor it likely inherited from its dad. It's also an athletic little turk, and day by day, the creature grows stronger. Someday soon it could very possibly punch its way out of the lady's womb --rather than exit in the regular way. But the lady's a tough specimen. I'm sure she'll be fine.

Neither she nor I know whether this kid will be little "Matilda" or little "Jude." The two of us have decided to remain ignorant, even in the face of so much modern technology. That doesn't stop the lady from refering to the baby as "he" instead of using a more appropriate, gender-neutral term like "the creature," "the alien," or "that [expletive] thing that relentlessly punches my lungs and lower intestines."

She probably calls the baby "he" just to save time.