Man and boy [antikvár]

The Most Beautiful Boy in the World It's a hoy, it's a boy! It's a little boy. I look at this baby - as bald, wrinkled and scrunched up as an old man - and something chemical happens inside me. It - I mean he - looks like the most beautiful baby in the history of the world. Is it - he - really the most beautiful baby in the history of the world? Or is that just my biological programming kicking in? Does everyone feel this way? Even people with plain babies? Is our baby really so beautiful? I honestly can't tell. The baby is sleeping in the arms of the woman I love. I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the pair of them, feeling like I belong in this room with this woman and this baby in a way that I have never belonged anywhere. After all the excitement of the last twenty-four hours, I am suddenly overwhelmed, feeling something - gratitude, happiness, love - well up inside me and threaten to spill out. I am afraid that I am going to disgrace myself - spoil everything, smudge the moment - with tears. But then the baby wakes up and starts squawking for food and we - me and the woman I love - laugh out loud, laugh with shock and wonder. It's a small miracle. And although we can't escape the reality