Baby Basketball

When I was pregnant with Son #2, Son #1 got to go to many of my doctor visits.  My doctor also delivered Son #1 and has a special fondness for the little guy.  Each time we went to a visit, the doctor would ask Son #1 to hold the heart beat monitor onto my stomach so they could listen to the little baby. 

Son #1 was completely fascinated.  At home, he would pretend that his football was a baby and stick the football under his shirt.  After Son #2 was born, Son #1 would pretend the football was an infant as well and rock it to sleep with a pretend bottle.  Son #1 is just too precious.

Tonight, Son #1 came out with a basketball underneath his shirt and said.  "Ugh.  Baby Basketball is so heavy.  I think I need to have surgery to get it out."

I laughed and replied.  "Ok.  Do you want to schedule an appointment?"

"Sure.  I'll just wait in the waiting room while you get ready for the surgery."  Son #1 groaned.

Son #2 and I went to his room to "prepare for surgery".  I called Son #1 into his room to lay down on his bed.  It was bedtime so Son #1's surgery worked well with my plans.  (cue evil laugh) 

Son #2 began to make a mess with the toys so I sent him out to "sterilize" some "instruments".  When Son #2 patted on the door to come back in, Son #1 pointed out.  "I think the sterilizer baby is back."  I let the sterilizer baby in and we proceeded to deliver Baby Basketball. 

After the delivery, Son #1 said in a reprimanding whisper.  "Shh!  Baby Basketball needs to sleep!"

Well then!  Goodnight, silly boy!

There's no basketball in my tummy!