Seeing Signs
There was another Doctor's appointment today.
Despite our best guesses about which part was where, this undetectable-bean-sprout-turned-man-child in Meg's belly actually does have his head down as, I'm informed, he's supposed to. Those are his feet pummeling her right lung, but that's his pooper we've been talking into for the last two-and-a-half weeks. The kid's gotta be getting a good chuckle out of this.
That's fine. He can laugh all he wants.
In the meantime, I'll continue to marvel at how close this sprout is to being a kid. That's his legs spanning the whole length of Meg's midsection. Not his whole body – just his legs. A few months ago Meg balked if I deigned to use any synonym for "large" to describe her condition. Now I get a resigned pout and half-hearted sigh. The once a week doctor's appointments have started – which, Meg informs me, means that I could be getting The Call at any moment. And I damn well better have my cell phone fully charged.
This is really happening. The monkey's coming. All these things are signs of his arrival.
That, and the website's done.