A Bubba Is Born

This morning, I witnessed how it is that these little Southern boys get the name "Bubba."

While changing Cheeks's diaper, he was babbling, "Mama, Mama, Mama."  I said, "You love Mama and Dada?"  To which, he replied, "Dada, Dada, Dada."  You see where this is going.

Then we talked about "your brother, Pants."  Yep.  "Bubba, Bubba, Bubba."

Cheeks is sitting, right this moment, in his high chair, feeding Pants Gerber Graduates fruit puffs.  Cheeks is laughing fitfully as Pants bounces left and right, up and down, trying to catch his baby brother's handful of puffs in his mouth. 

This play is why we always knew we would have more than one child.

But I won't be calling that first kid "Bubba."  No matter how cute his baby brother's babbles are.  The developing Southern accent I'm hearing around here more and more these days is going to have to be enough Southern charm to last.

Now go hug yer momma, cuz she coulda called ya Bubba.