Passing the Test

As I stand over a still-sleeping Michael in my rumpled PJs, I ask nervously, "Honey, do you want to get up now?" It's 8:30 on a Sunday morning. Under normal circumstances, he would grunt unhappily and roll over. But today, the sound of the drug-store bag crinkling and cardboard box opening has seeped into his consiousness. He remembers that I bought a pregnancy test last night. He opens his eyes and asks, "Are you pregnant?" I manage a nod before my eyes well up and we both start laughing giddily -- we couldn't be happier! When we finally regain our composure, we share the news with Buster Brown. He grunts unhappily and rolls over.

The best part of waking up.