Gene Pool

36 week, 4 days

When Andria and I were dating we used to lay on the floor of the bedroom in her apartment and talk. I still remember the songs that were popular at the time because the radio would always be on really low. While Norah jones sang Come Away With Me, we would lay in the dark and share secrets. The best thing about Andria is that she never ran out of things to say. I would learn about old boyfriends, and family vacations, soccer games and first kisses and she would hear stories about punk rock shows and the rain in Guatemala. We talked about moms and dads, brothers and sisters, cousin camps, and funerals.
Laying in the dark with Andria made time go by too fast. What started out at dusk as a conversation about her roommates boyfriend, would wind down at dawn with a conversation about why there was no possible need for Adam and Eve to have belly buttons. We could go for hours from one subject to the next. My favorite subjects had to do with our babies.
How many kids would we have? What would they be like when they were older? Would they play soccer or baseball. Would they sing like me or would they be athletic like her. Would they be loud an obnoxious like their dad, or laugh at play on word jokes like their mom. There was always of course the age old question, what would they look like?
Andria and I would always take the best features of one another and assign them to our imaginary little girl. She would have Andria’s eye shape but my eye color. She would have Andria’s fingers, and my toes. Andria’s skin tone, and my hair volume. We quickly came to the conclusion that it would be in the babies best interest if the genes that made up the baby’s nose would skip a generation and either Grandma Lewis or Grandma Beckham could pull from their personal pools and contribute DNA to that particular appendage.
As we get closer and closer to the pelican landing on our door step,I can’t help but find myself reflecting on those conversations. That little baby has been hiding behind a wall made up of skin and belly buttons for so long that I can no longer stand it. I am so excited to meet her for the first time. I can’t wait to hold her little body in the palms of my hands.
I wonder if she will have my grandpa’s red hair, or Vicki’s big brown eyes. Will she have a birth mark under her arm like her daddy or her Grandpa Lewis and Aunt Rachelle? Maybe she will get my freckles and if she is lucky she will get her moms smile. If she does I am in a whole lot of trouble because that would make two people in this world that would have the power and making me completely vulnerable by doing nothing more then moving the corners of their mouths upward.