Lefty?

Could it be?

Dare I hope?

A lefty in our midst?

*squeeeeeeee*

The kid insists on silverware, an open cup, and sometimes even a real seat at the table. A baby no more. He's digging in to Robert's birthday dessert of choice: chocolate tapioca pudding.

I don't want to freak you out or anything, but I have been waiting for a lefty. Not really longing for one, but secretly, patiently watching for one. Any one. You're asking me why. Well, I'm kinda left-handed. I notice left-handedness. I've always wanted at least one of my kids to be left-handed. The kids look so much like Bobby's side of the family. Pick any facial feature and I'll show you which Evans relation gave it to him/her. But the lefty thing would be completely from my side. My own.

I had given up hope after I decided James was our last kid.

I had completely forgotten about it until Matthew started using tools and utensils, turning pages, stacking blocks, and playing with cars predominantly with his left hand. A thrill of hope sprung anew.

Matthew's brain and body still has time to work this out on its own, of course, but now you know which side I'm rooting for. The left one.