I don’t know how they did it. Maybe they recited the ancient incantation of Isis, or conceived under a certain constellation, but my sister-in-law and husband baked and delivered a baby girl to the family. My wife and I have two boys, and my sister-in-law already had one, so to keep Thanksgiving 2021 from turning into a giant fight over who gets to use the virtual reality visor in between applications of Proactive acne cream, we really needed to add a tiny lady to the mix. I met her for the first time today, and she’s wonderful.
When we arrived at their house, it was full of family all passing the happy, somnambulant baby to and from warm sets of eager arms. She smelled and looked like purity, making all the boys seem like grubby giants who, despite being only 2, 3 and 4 years old, had already been irreversibly corrupted by the brutality of existence. Her eyes had never seen television, her ears still hadn’t heard a commercial jingle, her hands had yet to touch anything rough.
All of this made me want to eat that baby. I’M KIDDING! Actually I’m not. I really did want to. In one gulp, like an oyster. Straight down the hatch.
Here’s to my new little niece. I love her already.