Call Me Uncle

Well, it's official!

I'm going into my second week of being an uncle! My brother and sister-in-law had a lil baby boy, which they shamefully did NOT name after me. But I won't hold that against them... much : )

Lil AJ was born on my Mom's birthday, matter of fact. So he and Grammy will have to share the day. At least it will be easy for me to remember... as King Forgetter of Anything Numbered.

I've only seen the small guy in pictures, and those were only supplied from his date of birth. You know, smashed face, squeezed through a birth canal after soaking in amniotic fluid for 9 months. Not his photogenic height. So if any of my shrinking but loyal readership happens to have more updated pictures, say, a photo-happy grandmother with a DSLR Sony camera and a captive grand-progeny for a subject, well then, perhaps those could be sent to me care of my email address.

Wink, wink.

Fortunately for AJ, I can play the role of uncle well. Much like pets, if I can hand kids back to someone else, I'm good with them. Though I have a fear of dropping babies. I know it has to do with experience. Perhaps the real fear is that once I have them, it will be forever. Now that's a prospect to get the heart racing.

Now this has me thinking. The real fear is not losing hold of them once I have them; rather, it's the fear of holding on and never being able to let go. Now how do you like that?

And things are starting to read like a metaphor for other issues in my life, so we'll go to a commercial break. But this note's going on a sticky as a discussion point for my next therapy session.