My Dad is the Worst at Keeping Secrets

I was talking to my Dad tonight and he asked me the question, "Have you heard any news from Jon yet?" (My brother is a stay-at-home-Mom. Big news for him is that Libby is potty trained, hid in a closet or his dog didn't bite a child.) My response was: "What's going on, is Beth pregnant?" My dad was silent. Nice cover-up Dad.

Jon called me tonight to say hi. I asked him if there was anything he wanted to tell me. Jon's response, "Dad is the worst person in the world at keeping secrets". Apparently Kris called Jon earlier "just to see how he was doing" - another dead giveaway.

This is an awesome thing and we are all really happy. If my Mom were alive, she would be THE MOST EXCITED out of any of us. She would begin telling every person she knew, and many she didn't. When my Mom used to work at Eddie Bauer (a job she used as an excuse to tell total strangers about her grandchildren and show them their pictures), she would have managed to tell 100 people by now. My Mom would spend the next 7 months doting over Beth, calling her regularly and seeing how she was feeling on a daily basis and continue in her excitement through the birth, which she would be there for, as she was with all ten previous grandchildren. If she wasn't in the room when the child was born, she would be right outside, making a pest of herself with the nurses, asking if the baby had been born yet. My Mom would dote over the baby, making that baby feel that they were the most important, most special, most beautiful baby in the whole world. My Mom loved her grandchildren like nothing else and I'm sure she picked out Little Baby David in heaven.