We recently found out that our upcoming bundle of joy is going to be a boy. That makes a total of three boys for the Everett family, which constitutes renaming us as a gang by old west standards. Depending on the boys' deeds in the next fews years, we may even graduate to posse. There's already been some practice runs for a prison break.
We've decided on the name Henry for our newest member, and when I looked up the meaning of the name I groaned out loud. It's a german name that means 'ruler of the household'. Just great. I guess we have the leader of our gang now. Actually, I was thinking about it this afternoon and I believe we nailed the name of our youngest. Little Henry is already controlling things around here; when we eat, what we eat and even how we eat it. The little dictator decides if the house gets cleaned, if the boys get a bath every night and if I make it to the post office this week or next. I've pretty much lost all control over my own household, because I'm pregnant with an incredibly strong willed tiny outlaw.
We (Jordan and I) decided to get a pizza for lunch, but Hank had other ideas. I didn't even realize that I wasn't going to be joining my family for lunch until I heard myself yelling at the speaker in the drive thru of McDonald's that I wanted a southwestern chicken salad. One minute I was in control, the next I was on autopilot while that scamp made his own choices. He was right, though. It was perfect and I ate every bite.
The way I see life in the Everett house unfolding is that Henry will be the instigator, Mitch will be the willing guinea pig and Jack will be the one to fine-tune the details while Jordan and I desperately try to keep them all alive and out of jail. Sounds fun, doesn't it?
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