Cicadas aren’t the only thing popping out these days. William Ray Sharp was born last night at 9:24pm, weighing in at six pounds ten ounces. Matt, his dad and Billy’s nephew, called me this morning but I'd already been alerted. Amie, Matt’s sister, phoned last night in slurry reverie ten minutes after William Ray took his first breath.

“Well, we have us another William and he’s as pink as can be but not as big as we thought he’d be but he sure looks like Garrett and…” her buzzing continued but I had already wandered to that communal spot where I congratulated Billy on being a great uncle to his own namesake. I could see how happy he was, and I knew the honor he felt.

“But why they’d give him the middle name Ray? God!” He paused. “He’s an acky breaky big mistakey,” he giggled, his hand covering his wide smile as recalled a joke from Lea’s act that he and I had seen a billion times.

“No, honey bunny, he’s an achy breaky big dummy Guyster,” I said, grabbed his hand, and drew him in for a soft kiss. He giggled again.

While I was dreaming this, I imagined that pinkie little boy coming out with a fully formed mustache, and mischief dancing in his newly opened eyes. Knowing Matt, a shy guy until you get to know him then watch out, I can see him holding his son, that little Billy, and training him for social tomfoolery from day one.

And you know what? It’ll probably take little William Ray seventeen years to get that mustache in order.