To my son…

Hey there, little dude!

Just found out a couple of days ago that you are, in fact, a little dude. You tried your damndest during the ultrasound to conceal your stuff, but eventually you squirmed enough so that we could see what the doctors have called (in medical terms, no less): your “wang.”

And that settles it, doesn’t it? You knew the entire family was circling around, asking your mom questions about morning sickness and specific pains and what she was eating…everything save those questions about the date and time you were conceived and the position of sexual congress we parents agreed upon to make you…and you decided for yourself the proper time to make things clear for the rest of us.

Before this first greeting gets a too long, let me just say to you: I knew you before you were you. I saw you when you were a slight 2 milimeter mass inside your mother. I knew you when you made her sick. I felt your kick before we knew you were a boy, and during that ultrasound a few days ago I saw you squirm about in your own space to decide what made up your surroundings. I saw you suck your thumb in an x-ray and I watched you drink the life around you. I saw you bat at the disturbances of your sleep, and I saw deep inside the makings of you — I saw your skin, I saw your vessels, I saw your skeleton, and I know that even now you’re intact.

You should know that your parents wish very little of you, and I think any of our desires can fall under the following:

• May you be kind.
• May you be understanding.
• May you seek understanding.
• May you continue to explore your surroundings.
• May you be happy.

Enjoy.
See you around, little guy.