Last night, Jeanine and I watched our friend’s two kids. The older boy is Jake’s age and they are best of pals. They love each other like brothers.

No, they are actually nicer to each other than brothers. Best friends.

His younger sister is four. When her mom dropped her off, she was very sleepy. Jeanine took her, sat on the couch with the little girl in her lap, in front of the roaring fire.

I almost- ALMOST- wanted to have another baby.

Seeing Jeanine holding that little girl, and then later, after she fell back asleep, she was stretched out on the couch, under a blanket snoring those soft little baby snores.

Oooooh.

So sweet.

So beautiful.

Can we have another? I asked Jeanine.

Sure, she said.

Mind you, Jeanine is not the person who would stay home with the baby. And sleep has never been high on her list of things to do. Not to mention I’m too old, too perimenopausal.

I have to say, I had a bit of baby fever last night. I looked at that little girl on my couch, all dressed in pink, and had my moment of how much I wished I had a girl. How much I missed the little baby period, the chubby legs, and the tired head placed on your shoulder. The sweet baby smell.

Maybe I’ll get a puppy.

Lot easier than babies. You can put them in a crate and it’s a good thing.

Or a kitten. You don’t even need to put them in a crate.

But for all my friends who are reading this? NO, I am not having another baby.

I think.