pink, of course

"So today," I tell Mark over dinner, "Anya informed me that she's having two kids: a girl and a boy.  And what will there names be, Ani?"

"Carl."
"Both of them?" He asks?
"Yes," she says from around a mouth of pasta.
"That's convenient."
"And Anya, what color will their hair be?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"Pink."
"And their eyes?"
"Pink."
"Arms?"
"Pink. Legs too."

At this point Mark choked on his pasta.


"And hey, you told me that Lily was going to have a baby girl, too." I reminded her.
"Yeah."
"And what will her name be?"
"Carl."
"Of course." Mark says.
"And what color will her hair be?" I ask.
"Pink."
"And her eyes?"
"Pink."

This is where Lily has enough of her future being determined for her.

"NO!" she yells, "Her name will be Sara and she will have BLACK eyes and BLACK hair and it will be long and straight and beautiful."

Anya ignores her sisters refusal of a totally pink world, going on to explain how her babies will love to have their toenails painted pink. You know, to match the rest of them.  And since she'll be such a good mama, she'll paint their toes every single day.  Unlike some mothers she knows.

Grandparenting is totally going to rock.  And yes, I'll post photos of my pink grandbabies on the internet, but I may expect you to pay to view them. 

Save your nickels.  Mama needs a flush retirement.