Unclehood Redux

Everything’s cooler when you put the word “redux” after it. But only in the “Apocalypse Now Redux” way, not if you’re overweight and poisoned yourself in the 90s with get-thin-quick pills.

Anyway, my sister had another baby. That’s three for her. I’ll post some pictures here when I get them. It’s a girl and she has no name.

So, congrats, Mandy, on your new no-named baby! Congrats, mom, on your latest nameless grandchild, this is what it’s like to have a grandkid who’s name you don’t know…let me know when you’ve gotten used to that idea…we’ll talk.

Virtual pink cigars all around.

I would post more about my new niece but I don’t know much; she has no name, she was 7 pounds 5 ounces, she was born at home in a kiddie pool (which is cool as long as once the baby pops out, you’re not suddenly struck with an inspiration to name the kid “Nemo”), she’s a girl and she’s quite young.

Oh, and she’s obviously a genius.


Fun Fact: My sister hasn’t picked a name because, obviously, there is some debate about it. They also didn’t know the gender until the baby poked its head out to say hello (well, it’s nether-regions anyway).

So I have a suggestion.

Talula.

There aren’t enough Talula’s in the world.

Oh, and that picture at the top is not of my mannequinesque sister giving birth to my rubber-headed niece, it’s a simulated representation (without the kiddie pool and – thankfully – any details that might factually represent the messy event)(also, my sister had the baby at home with the help of a midwife that, as far as I know, didn’t just stand there pointing at my niece’s head).