“Best case scenario, he will look like Stephen Fung.”
Ralph said one night while I was lying in bed heavily pregnant. I was balanced on my left side (pressure off the vena cava blah blah), eating my bedtime snack, which was invariably a Snickers bar or such equivalent.
“Who is Stephen Fung?”
Ralph promptly googled imaged him, and we both burst out laughing because yeah obviously, obviously, Stephen Fung is the both of us combined, and well… a little bit refined.
Michael’s future, if all goes as planned.
Not too shabby huh.
Now that Michael is out in the world, I think we can all agree that the resemblance is uncanny:
The only difference between the two is that Michael can’t stand up on his own yet, but that’s just temporary! They have the same dimple(s), large nose and round head. All Chan traits, may I proudly add. Observe:
Am I right? You know I’m right.
Last night, we revisited the issue, and decided that while Mr Fung is all well and good, why stop there? Why not shoot for Won Bin instead?
Who is Won Bin? Aw man, you guys are missing out.
And so on.
I mean, there’s a chance right? It could happen…? Because that would be my life’s biggest achievement. Birthing a Won Bin. Or a Takuya Kimura, for that matter.
Oh hello there, hottest man in Japan with the ridiculous attire.
Although, after much discussion (literally, Ralph and I spent half an hour last night hunched over the computer comparing photos of Won Bin and Takuya Kimura, going: “He’s more handsome” “No, he’s more handsome” “Did you see this picture? Won Bin is obviously more chiseled and refined”) we have decided that Won Bin is our final answer. Apologies to the rest of them. Especially Stephen Fung, who instantly dropped to an 8 after Won Bin took a 10, “Which makes me what, a 1?!?” Ralph retorted. Sorry dude.
Yesterday, while watching Michael muck around on all fours bleating like a lamb (he makes strange noises these days), I remarked to Lyn that I’d had no idea that babies were so darn cute, before I actually made one. They are absurd, with their chipmunk cheeks and cutesy everythings.
It is so overwrought, this topic of the adorableness of one’s own offspring, but honestly, I get it now. Michael’s cuteness is all I think about these days. Even his poop is cute. I think. I go to bed thinking about how I will see him in the morning, and in the morning, there he is sitting up all plump and cheery, like a doll with super advanced features: it actually eats (for real) and smiles (for real) and asks to be picked up (for real). And he’s mine! How we were gifted with such a darling (future Won Bin or not) is something I don’t think I will ever be able to wrap my mind around.