Someday

Julie's mom knits, crochets, sews, basically engages in any activity that involves using sticks to turn yarn into blankets or quilts or afghans or whatever. When she serves spaghetti, it looks like a little noodle sweater with sauce on top. She calls it sweaterghetti, and...okay, that last part was a lie. You get the picture, though.

So Julie's mom and dad have spent the last 10 years or so with three daughters, all of a child-bearin' age, and nary a grandchild to show for it. You can imagine their reaction when, at a picnic table in the middle of a Wisconsin order-at-the-counter barbecue joint with various animal heads on the wall, we announced we were expecting.

Let me back up a second. Here's how we did it. Julie took out two balls of yarn and handed them to her mom.

"What's this all about?"
"So you can knit booties for your grandchild."

I'll leave the details of their reaction to your imagination. After lunch, we went back to their house, and the soon-to-be grandma hauled a gigantic garbage bag up from the basement. In it were blankets, quilts, afghans, etc., all baby-themed, that she had already created, thinking "Someday."