Kendle couldn't believe it. Even at nine pounds, the baby seemed so small and vulnerable. She couldn't bring herself to touch the forehead, fearing she would wake him up.
This was not exactly a new experience. Four brothers preceded this little red-faced, sleeping thing. Yet every time, it seemed as if she and her family had sort of...forgotten what it was like to have a baby. Earlier, when she had held him, his hair had smelled like sweet shampoo, and she had marveled how he fit in her arms just so. If she had it her way, she would have held him forever and ever and ever, always gazing at the closed eyes, and listening to his quiet, peaceful breathing.
This had happened with the baby before this one, and the one before that. Yet now, they were troublesome toddlers, partners in crime and mischief.
But you won't be a naughty thing, will you?, thought Kendle. You'll be perfect, like you are right now. You'll never cry or have a tantrum, or throw things at me, or hit