Our friends, The Lindsays, had their fourth baby about two months after we had Maggie. Samuel is their first boy, and he happened to have the exact same birth weight and height as Maggie. If that's not a sign that they are destined to be together, then I don't know what is. To help cement their early commitment, Ian's mom bought them matching outfits, and on Tuesday night, we prepared to reap the photographic rewards of our matching giant babies all lined up. Things began peacefully, Maggie on her side of the blanket, Sam bewildered but calm on his side.
At first, we all took Maggie's reaching out and grasping Sam's arm as further proof of their compatibility. "Oh, look!" we exclaimed fondly. "They're holding hands!"
It soon became apparent, however, that Maggie's intentions were not quite so benign. Tired of teething on her own tender fingers and thumbs, and having already gnawed her mother's fingers down to bloody stubs, Maggie seized the opportunity to stuff Sam's fists into her questing maw along with her own. Sam bore this abuse stoically, demonstrating his infant manliness.
I am very sorry to say that Maggie's irrational aggression deepened as the night progressed. None of us know what Sam could possibly have done to deserve this fist upside the head, but Maggie's defiant and remorseless stare seems to indicate that more is in store.
Oh, Maggie. Is it because I made fun of you so much as a fetus? Speck was an affectionate nickname, Maggie, I swear!
Sam bore up relatively well under the noggin punching, but when Maggie moved down and started working the midsection, he was forced to request assistance. I suppose I should be grateful that Maggie is clearly a strong woman who is not afraid to stand up for herself. If she is truly destined to be Samuel's life partner, however, I will be giving him a helmet and various kinds of discreet padding for a wedding gift.