Practice Child

Dear Henry,

This here is Poopship Destroyer Delano Roosevelt II, Esquire. You will know him as Deuce. He currently thinks his name is Henry and that your room is his, due to the fact that our attempts to prepare him for your arrival only confused him and ultimately backfired on us. He comes running when I talk or sing to you. You kick hard when he rests his head on my belly and when I raise my voice suddenly to repremand him for drinking out of the toilet. He is the reason your little baby clothes will be covered in tiny black hairs. He is the reason your high chair tray will be cleared from all edible items in one fell swoop if your mom and dad are not paying attention. He will present you with additional challenges when you are learning to walk, and we are quite certian that your first sentence will be, "No, Deuce!"

Because he is horselike in size, I have been obsessed with the thought of you getting to ride him one day. I am still bummed that your dad put the smackdown on my buying that little saddle when we were in Mexico. It was the perfect size and I even talked the guy down to selling it to me for 400 pesos! (your dad clearly does not believe I am serious about this, and is not aware of the amount of plotting I have done to bring this riding dream to fruition). Just think how fun it would be to go up to the park giddy-up style. Baby David up the street would be so jealous...

Anyway, while we know that caring for you will not be comparable to what it has been like with Deuce, we have learned some skills that have got to help a little. We are not phased by having to clean up poop and throw up. We have learned to be accountable for another life. And the best part- his cage is large enough to house you both when mama has to run to the grocery to get her cigarettes and wine coolers.

Seriously though, I can't imagine what kind of crazy love we will have for you, feeling the way we do about this 120lb non-human.

Love,

Mom