When I was a small boy of about 4 years in age, I had my tonsils removed. After the ordeal and ready to be dismissed from the hospital, I asked the nurse, "where's my baby?" In my very immature and small mind, I was with the understanding that a baby was what a person received at the hospital for being good and not putting up a fuss. After all, if the doctor gave me a stick of gum when visiting his office, a bigger prize was in order for having a tonsillectomy.
In this picture, Bill seems to have that "see what I got for being a good boy," appearance while holding his first nephew, Victor. I should add also, that Bill did have surgery a week ago. He's improving day by day, but, sad to say there was no baby to take home.
Bill lives 6 blocks from us and we really appreciate that. Whenever we need help, we can always depend on Bill to be there. I should also add that all of our children are very hard and dependable workers.
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