... even when he had to be forcibly removed from the table bearing the busy box in the doctors' waiting room.
... even when he screamed his way through the weigh-in and the measuring and the removal of sharp pointy objects (such as the pens he'd cunningly snatched) from his possession.
... even when he bit me (and drew blood) seconds before the doctor arrived.
... even though I wasn't sad when the nurse stepped into the room bearing two hypodermic needs and tiny round bandages.
I really do love all 18 pounds 13 ounces of him.
I really do love all 29 and 1/4 inches of him.
I really do love all 46.5 cm of his sweet cranium.
Furthermore? I love that his sister doesn't have a hearing problem. Or not a significant one, at any rate.