"How old is the baby?" she asks.Bless her heart, she was embarrassed. But she needn't be! The joy of having Oliver is so great that little things like that don't even register. Like Jacob's little Benjamin ("the son of my right hand"), Oliver too is "very dear to me, set on my right hand for a blessing, the support of my age."
"He's four-and-a-half months now."
"Oh. Is he coming to see you, or are you going to see him?"
[Two-second pause of befuddlement, till it dawns on me]
"Oh, no -- he's ours."
|"Are you my grandpa?"|