Jacob...

Today's prompt was to tell about a vivid childhood memory...

A lot of different things are coming to mind: crashing my bike, winning a trophy for Peewee 4H, moving to Colorado, my baptism; all of which have previously been talked about. Instead I’ll talk about another one, when my little brother was born and when he came home from the hospital.

It was the summer of ’95, school was out for the summer, I was about eight years old and Mom was pregnant. It was getting close to the baby’s due date and the joke was that if we heard a baby cry we knew it’d been born – about half of us have been born in unconventional places, my own birth falls into this category and is a story for another time.

Mom had left for the hospital and I remember being so disappointed that she hadn’t had my little brother at home like two of my sisters had been. Jacob was born. We all knew it but we couldn’t go the hospital to see him. People from the ward dropped by with food, which I thought was cool because they would also bring dessert. We typically didn’t have dessert with dinner because we had it with lunch, and now we were having it twice!

Dad brought Mom and my little brother home from the hospital and we each got a turn holding him. When my turn came I didn’t want too – he had this brown little thing sticking out of his belly button and it was weird. But I held him and got my picture taken with him. My opinion has since changed.