Hey there my sweet little baby, its dear old dad stopping in for a little chitty-chat addition to this book-o-love your parents have been putting together for you.
Soooo.. on Monday your folks embarked on yet another trip to see Dr. Wavy Eyes and get an update on how you're doing in there. In brief, it was a much better trip this time. Your gorgeous mum got the directions right, she was on time, I found a parking spot without much issue, we had decent gas mileage in your mum's big Jeep, blah blah blah that's what your dad does blah blah blah...but what was really great was what happened when the doc came into the room.
It was normal at first, a little "hey doc, how's the vertigo working out for ya?", that sort of thing. He remembered, blamed it on a migraine, cracked wise, then whipped out his Sony Walkman. It got a bit weird, I couldn't figure out where the cassette went in, he rubbed some stuff on your mum's belly, and it only had one headphone. Maybe he lost the other one jogging in '86 listening to Huey Lewis, who knows, but it still worked because he put it on your mum's belly and we could all hear it. Loud and clear. Dunta dunta dunta dunta dunta...ah yes, the heart of rock 'n' roll is still beating. Good on ya my wee rock star, good on ya. Best beat I've ever heard. I tried to dance, but being mid-30's and white, I can't. Your mum did her best to boogie but really all we were doing was holding back tears. I wanted to ask for a bootleg copy of the tune to sell to my friends at a mark up, but it was too late. Alas, your parents sing it to themselves.
Your mum has been great. She's looking as beautiful as ever (pray to God, and all gods, and non-gods alike that you get her beauty) and so far has dodged any ailments or other pregnancy related go-alongs like morning sickness or cravings for pickles&ice cream at 2:00am. Although your big bro Tucker has been cutting wind a bit more frequently of late... No matter, what has happened with these hormonal changes your mum is going thru with you growing so rapidly in her belly is her inate inability to comprehend your dad's wonderful use of sarcasm and one-liners. It's true, my baby bundle of absolute love, your mum no longer gets your dad's jokes. Its been trying at times, but I'm dealing with it as best as I can. I've tried new material, I've gone back to the classics, I'm busting a gut here (please, someone get that one...). I know you're laughing in there Bridget or Sean, and one day I'll teach you how to get your mum all wound up, too.
Wow....whoa...one day I get to teach you something. That's amazing. And that's no joke.
Big Love my little rock star. Nice beat.