Yes, indeedy-do, each of my two sisters are due to have their third baby girl any time now. You remember my sisters, right? Kelli, the middle child, who I once convinced to play chicken on the old highway down the road from our house, where we'd run out in front of passing cars, seeing who could get closest without actually getting hit? That sister. (Incidentally, that is the last time I remember getting a spanking from my mother. Sometimes, when I've been sitting for too long, I believe I can still feel the effects of that particular disciplinary action. It turns out fear gives mothers divine strength. Thanks a lot, neighbor who snitched on us- no, but really, thank you, you likely saved our lives.)
Or Stephanie, the youngest, who Kelli and I used to stuff in a sleeping bag and shove down the stairs? Or shove in a laundry basket and pull around the kitchen, bouncing off the sharp cabinet corners? Or shove in the dryer, because how else were we supposed to answer the age-old question, "Will our baby sister fit in the dryer?"
I was worried they were both going to be selfish and deprive me of any more nieces, but thankfully they both managed to get knocked up a third time and now my family and I will have even more little girls to smother with our well-meaning, overly-affectionate love. We got to see them a month ago, where we did our best to get enough niece/cousin time to last us a while.
Adelaide also made sure to demonstrate to all the little girls that you're never too big to sit in Grandma's lap.
Incidentally, our children still love to sit in our laps. I love this, too, even if it feels like this most of the time:
Come on, nieces. You have an aunt ready to smoosh and smooch you, plus I have it on good authority your mothers are perhaps just the teensiest bit uncomfortable right now. I don't want to point any fingers, but some of you aren't being very careful with your pointy knees and elbows.