My poor mother.

I heard the latest Gilbert family news last night when I called my mom. (I have a paper due tonight, so I was procrastinating. Incidentally, I also reorganized my 6-7 gigs of music on my computer, installed service pack 2, backed up my e-mail and docs, washed dishes, did laundry … hehe.)

Turns out my youngest cousin, Tresa, is pregnant.

For those who don’t know her (or OF her), Tresa’s the one who moved in with my parents last year … and who, bless her heart, gave my poor, spoiled parents an education neither my brother nor I ever came close to providing. Things escalated, Tresa moved out, and her presence at major family functions has been nonexistent ever since. (I personally haven’t seen her since our family reunion in July 2002, as best I can recall. Which we all know isn’t so well. 😉

I’ll refrain from editorializing, except to offer this observation:

My mom is the oldest of four siblings, and her lone brother (my uncle Fred in Hawaii) has never had kids of his own. Yet, it now appears my mother will be the dead LAST of her brother and sisters to become a grandparent. Donna, Pearl and Fred all have grandkids — Fred by marriage, clearly, but still. Heck, his grandsons are both out of *high school*.

Objectively speaking, it just seems extremely unfair that the woman who bought her 26-year-old daughter a necklace that, among other things, boosts fertility has to be the last of her generation to experience the joys of grandparent-hood.

Which is not to suggest I have any intentions of remedying this situation. I’m just sayin’.

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