My Grandchild is a Venusian!

See how I just rolled that "g" word right out there like that? I've come to the conclusion that it takes nine months to grow a baby, not just so the baby can develop, but so that all those who are related can adjust to their new station in life.

Still adjusting here.

I was on pins and needles recently, waiting to hear the results of our daughter-in-law's ultrasound. We already knew the baby was healthy, but that wasn't the reason for the ultrasound. (Not in my mind, anyway.) No, there was a much more important piece of information that needed to be determined.

Boy or Girl?

The ultrasound was scheduled for 11:00 a.m., and I made my dil promise to text me as soon as they knew. At 11:22 I grabbed my phone when the text alert went off. The message simply said the ultrasound had been moved to 4:00 p.m.

Nothing like putting off the moment. Or letting the suspense build.

Even the stalwart Indiana Jones was eager to know the results, texting me to ask if I'd heard anything. Apparently making Matt and Kylee promise to contact me was a good idea. Otherwise I might have been left in the dark, too.

I got sidetracked later in the day, and was surprised to get a text from Matt. The message said simply this:

4475

Can you guess what they're having?