I was presented a book yesterday, quite proudly, by my son.
He wrote, illustrated, and bound it professionally...with well placed staples.
It's called, The Monkey.
Once opon a time
there was a monkey
that was swinging on the tree.
(below script are 4 trees in technicolor crayon with a brown monkey near a tree)
Then his tummy felt its hurting. It was
A baby. He was so
Happy. He never had a baby. In his hole
life. He had too babys.
(below script are two trees, 2 bushes and a monkey figure with 2 circles for the stomach area)
And then he had a baby. twice. And then
they were A family
that lived in the Jungle. oo. oo. ah. ah.
(below script is a big blue sky, 2 white clouds, one tree and 3 brown monkeys around it)
I was so proud. Now that's a keeper.
I wonder what that means..... lol
Coincidentally I had some down time at work and was working on my own book for him (the story of his conception). Writing it is tougher than I thought. I'll be editing it for a while, before I'm happy with it.
And THEN....this morning I had an offer to consider taking ownership of frozen embyros. My knee-jerk response is, "No, that's lovely, but I'm very happy with the one child I have."
But I've decided to really think it over before I answer.