Tintypes

I sat behind a matching-pair mother and daughter at Mass today. They both had exactly the same wavy blonde hair, and when the little girl leaned her head against her mother's shoulder, you couldn't tell where one head of hair ended and the other began.

This was all very sweet, of course, and as I watched them whisper to one another I thought about how cool it would be to have your own personal Mini-Me running around, an echo of your own childhood. Then I caught myself and realized that the entire point of parenting is the child, not a yowling excuse to have your own wonderfulness reflected back in your face twenty four hours a day.

Then I really caught myself and meditated upon the potential horribleness of a little copy of me unleashed upon the world. With all its faults--with all the wars, inconsistencies, poverty, madness, and Barbara Walters specials-- surely the universe hasn't done anything to deserve that.

This said, however, if Taufling is a girl, the human race can only improve if she looks and acts and is in general exactly like her beautiful mother.

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