I am waiting for my daughter Susie to give me the go-ahead to board a plane and exit east to MA.  Grand baby #6 is due somewhere between now and the end of the month. We don't know if we are pink or blue yet.  Mom and Dad want the big surprise. I want to know what color to paint the baby's bedroom walls. They do not.

There are three older siblings ages 7 - 11 who are anxious to meet the new arrival.  The dog - not so much.  Tia the Pom is oblivious to the situation. There are the Great Grandmas, Uncles and Aunts, a slew of cousins and of course Grandmas and Grandpas.

I need/want/wish/hope for another Granddaughter. This baby girl will even up my 'Grand' count to 3 and 3.  I have secretly carried a pink teddy bear adorned with a pink tutu since last July when Susie made the official announcement. I've been wearing pink for a month.  My toenail polish is pink with pink sparkles.  I've eaten pink cupcakes, pink cotton candy, pink malted milk balls and the drink of choice is a Shirley Temple.  Even my lipstick is pink.

On March 10, Susie had her weekly appointment.  The Doctors and Nurses at the OB office know that Susie and Matt do not want to know  the baby's sex.  They have been surprised with the end result for the last three births.  The files are stamped with 'top secret'.  The tech (new guy)  who was in charge of Susie's ultra sound announces "Yep, he looks fine. All is well"  Susie's heart sunk.

Not because she has a boy on the way into the world.  Not because she now gets to paint the walls blue.  Not because my quota will be 4 & 2. Not because she really wanted pink sparkly ruffles.  Not because of a lot of  - things.

She is upset because her last big surprise is no longer a surprise.

Moral of the story:  Read the file.  At all costs, people, read the file.