Some families can’t keep secrets
My hope to be surprised lived less than 12 hours.
7:45 AM: My mom tells me how well the baby’s doing. “He’s feeding,” she says.
3:46 PM: My father carbon copies me on a congratulatory email from the builder constructing my parents’ new home. “Our builder just found out about Noah this afternoon,” his email starts.
So, I have a nephew named Noah.
I don’t know his middle name yet. Here’s to hoping it’s not accidentally leaked to me sometime in 10 hours between now and when I arrive in Asheville.