It was love at first sight.
There he was, all three kilograms of person, with a squished up face and wrinkled hands, and I was smitten.
Head over heals.
He doesn’t say much. Although he has some strong opinions about sleep and food, apparently.
He doesn’t do a lot either. He lies there. He wriggles. He pulls the funniest faces.
But I am bowled over.
Our relationship is a virtual one, eyes meeting across a thousand kilometres and a computer screen. My eyes anyway. He tends to be asleep, eyes shut against the bright, shiny world.
But I’ll spend many a happy hour staring at that screen until we meet in person.
And I’ll spend many a happy moments flicking through photo albums and collecting updates, looking forward to the day when those wrinkly fingers wrap around mine.
Well, hello, little man. I think a lot of you.
Yes, hello, little man. I’m so happy you’re here.
You’re so innocent, so shiny and so new.
Hello, little man, here’s to the best for you.