babies having babies

Now and then it's kinda fun to play at being old. To say things, as I did to a teenager this spring, like "And you were at my wedding, but you don't remember because you were one year old. But I have the photos and I could show ya." Just to watch the eyes get wide. But now that former infant's sister has gone and had a baby, and while she's a bit of a child bride, she's not any such thing as a teen mother, no member of any demographic that would cause the old ladies to gossip, and certainly not the second grader that my memory insists that she is.

Oh, my goodness gracious. (I am practicing being ancient.)

Hearing of all the bonnets and blankets and gowns, and yes even booties that this baby's great grandmother had already made before she passed away this Spring, I had a nonsensical thought: "Oh, great. Now mom will want a grandbaby." But I wasn't thinking another. For a split-second I'd forgotten I'd already given her one. In my defense--I've always got one--I think it's that I just can't reconcile the wild-haired child who insists blue and purple tie-dye and green camouflage are a pleasing combo with anything that simple and delicate. But maybe I'm just getting old.