Double Psyche!

Nope, we've not yet popped 'round these parts. We would, however, like to welcome a new member of our family: "little-surrogate-fake-
baby-we-hope-will-ease-
the-trauma-of-the-new-actual-
baby-that-could-arrive-any-day".

I'm not quite sure what possessed Katie to pull this thing out today but, well, the hormones, folks, they are not to be questioned. So, with that aside, Max was introduced to his not-your baby brother. He generally seemed non-plussed by his new charge. He did not, as I predicted, drag the kid to the backyard, duct tape him to the tree, pull down his pants and invite the neighborhood kids over to laugh and point until we got home from work.

I don't think he minded his not-your brother as much as he minded the bottles that come with the baby: they're the ones that appear to have liquid in them and, when you tip the bottle back, the liquid vanishes into a hidden reservoir. as I unwrapped the bottles, I mentioned to Katie how, when I was a kid, I found these types of toys fascinating, 'cause I could never figure out where the f'n liquid went. In reality, I never got that far in the sentence for Katie. I got to the word "types" before I drifted off, rapturously tipping this little baby bottle again and again in front of my open-mouthed face.

Max, a chip off the old block, tried in vain to drink from the toy bottles until he got bored, looked at his little not-my brother, shrugged and asked me where we keep the duct tape.