Jack V. Vickery, my first great-nephew, arrived today. Six weeks and one day early, he took us all a little by surprise, but we are thrilled. His weight, 5.5lbs, was an answer to prayer. His breathing has already improved a little, but will continue to be on oxygen for a few more days. Emily is doing great, and has her aunts all aghast that she chose to deliver naturally. And while grandparents are chomping at the bit to see him but can't because of covid restrictions, I think it might be great for the new little family to have some time with just themselves.
Saturday we had a baby shower for Bobby's niece. As I was making the mints, Bobby asked what else was on the menu. After I recited off the litany of items, he responded with "No peanut butter?! This shower is for Hannah! What's she going to eat?" (Hannah has had stomach problems over the years and has been unable to tolerate many foods, but peanut butter has been her staple.) Despite my assurances that she would enjoy the foods we were having, he was adamant that I needed to make peanut butter & jelly sandwiches for the shower. Even though I protested that NOBODY took that to a shower, he persisted, and informed me I could make them dainty with my little cutter. And so I did. To my surprise all but 3 were eaten. Who'd a thunk it?
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