We're having a garage sale tomorrow and Saturday--our desparate and hopefully fruitful attempt to get rid of some of the extra stuff that's accumulated round our house--and my mother, who lives here in town, was gracious enough to come help us...we just got done about fifteen minutes ago, and as she drove away, I caught a glimpse of the child safety seat in the back seat of her car (see, this is why grandparents living in the same city is a definite good thing: free, eager babysitters!). All of a sudden I had this intense longing to meet, to know, to touch and caress and kiss the soft, vulnerable head of someone I've never even seen face-to-face...only in a fuzzy, grainy, black-and-white image...yeah, she'll keep us up all night, yeah she'll scream for no good reason for long periods of time...yeah, she'll eat and eat and eat...and poop and poop and poop...but come on, child. Bring it. Make us a family, for reals.
I love you, Hope E. And I've not even seen your sweet face yet. Ven y estate con nosotros, mija.