Pay it Forward.

You know what's awesome about being at the end of a parade of eight baby boys?

(that reminds me of the joke about the guy who worked shoveling elephant poop in the circus parades*.)

Seriously, our local friends and family have had, in the past four years, eight boys. It might be nine before 2009, but the latest couple is waiting to find out. Well, one of them is. The other sneaked a look at the ultrasound and then emailed me, "What did boy's goodies look like on the ultrasound?" I couldn't help her, because Howie's goodies? all but had a giant neon arrow proclaiming "I AM A BOY AND BOY AM I EVER A BOY!!!" So I'm not sure what questionable goodies might look like, I only know what obvious goodies look like.

Anyway, one of the best parts of having all these older boys around (besides the fact that in a decade, none of us will be mowing our own yards or washing our own cars) is that I am getting piles of hand-me-down clothes for Howie. And since all of our friends have SMASHING good taste, they are cuteness personified.

Lee's son is just between the two boys of Emily, so Emily was able to lend her clothes until her youngest is big enough to wear them. I don't know what Lee was expecting, but her jaw dropped when she saw the giant container Emily had in her basement. "I, um," she said later, "I about crapped my pants. I was kind of panicking about all the stuff I'd have to buy and now? Not so much."

Lee's passing it on too, because she just dropped off the stuff the Te man just outgrew. So now I have pj's and jeans and jackets and the cutest stripey union suits for Howie to grow into.

This spirit of Pass It On is fantastic.
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* someone says, "that's an awful job! you're smart, why don't you get a better job?" and the guys says, "and leave show business?!?!?!" Okay, lame. But one of the first jokes I remember my dad telling me.