I might get called away mid-post, and I hope you’ll understand. My brother’s wife is expecting to have a baby any second. We’ve been at “any second” for about week and a half, but the girl has probably got a hint or two at the blight of bad economy and negative political ads that are waiting for her, and has decided she’ll stay right where she is, thanks.
I grew up in a family of boys, so “the Scaletta girl” was a novel concept when Wendy was born nearly nine years ago. I remember it well because the Vikings were playing the Lions in a must-win game that they ended up losing. I like to say — this is a bit off-color, so pardon me in advance — that Wendy was pulled out right about the time as Randall Cunningham, who was benched mid-game in favor of journeyman quarterback Jeff George.
Wendy was mostly cries and screams for a few years, then turned all at once into a brilliant, articulate child who knows all about dinosaurs.
My second niece was born about three and a half years ago. Her name is Sophie, and she’s a quiet, easy-going toddler who can be decked and mercilessly licked by rambunctious puppies and laugh about it.
My third niece will be named Kali, after a Hindu deity, here cutely drawn by Sanjay Patel.
If names are destiny, as they most certainly are, she’ll be a holy terror. She’s wreaking havoc before she’s even born.