“Yesterday my sister Kristen twisted her ankle. Her ankle got kicked buy a boy in gym. I wondered why she was lapping behind and hopping on one foot.”

So empathetic you are, Young Self! Sheesh! In case you’re wondering, I have grown into a much more caring adult than second grader, and my sister has fared even better and walks without any external assistance. That kicking terror of a boy was never identified and is probably still kicking kindergartners left and right. Jerk.

Fast forward a couple decades and the same little sister is now celebrating some amazing milestones. Yesterday she heard her fetus’s heartbeat for the FIRST time (ahhhh!!!) and when I asked whether she cried and got all emotional she replied that such signs of weakness aren’t scheduled until the second trimester. How touching.

In other news, it’s her baby daddy’s birthday today (also known as “husband”) and I wish the whole family a fun night despite Kristen’s boring, socially-imposed, “ethical” sobriety streak. I’m sure they’re all celebrating somehow - wish I could be there!

Here’s me wishing the little whippersnapper a Merry Christmas. It appears that my right arm is inserted through Kristen’s body and giving the little munchkin a pat on the back. So be it! Our own fetal oven (“mother”) is the seated one.