little man Dylan

I’m having a baby boy. I knew it even before the ultrasound. I think I knew it from about the time we decided on our girl’s name. Emily came so quickly to us, so easily, I knew we’d better agree on some boy names because it just couldn’t be a girl. And he’s not. I wanted Biblical names, Noah, Gabriel, Joshua – Jim couldn’t offer anything really, except for Marley (after Bob Marley?) but not seriously.

And then we found Dylan. I don’t remember which of us thought of it first. We liked the idea of naming him after a poet, though not any one in particular. You see, I wouldn’t let Jim name him after Bob Marley so he suckered me into Bob Dylan instead. I see his game 😉

But he is a little boy for sure. When I sleep his testosterone seeps into my brain and gives me little boy dreams. I am fighting an intergallactic battle. The people of Earth take sides with the good aliens to defeat the bad ones. We fight with guns that shoot lasers and explode things into dust. Or I am fighting in some sort of game, think American Gladiators meets Ultimate Fighting Championship meets The X-Men. When it’s my turn I light my fingertips with a torch. My fingertips are sparklers and they shoot fiery sparks that set my opponent ablaze. He is hurt, but not really. It is just a game after all.

My little man. When he’s old enough, I’m sure he’ll love watching Battlestar Galactica with Jimmy.