By Evelyn David
Many (many) years ago, when I was pregnant with my first child, my mother took me to Lord and Taylor's (a big department store) to shop for a layette. (I don't even know if they call it a layette anymore.) But since we didn't know the gender of the baby, ultrasounds were not routine back in the dark ages, we bought everything in pastel shades of yellow and green – and added a little white footed onesie. Long sleeves, long pants, snaps all the way down the middle and one leg – easy on and off.
Now Son Number One was born at the end of July. It was a minimum of 100 degrees, but on the day we brought him home from the hospital, he wore an undershirt, the little white long-sleeved footed onesie, and two receiving blankets. He weighed six pounds, nine ounces and the outfit fit perfectly.
Fast-forward three-and-a-half years and it was time to bring home Son Number Two. This time it was New Year's Eve, and he too wore the little white onesie, minus the undershirt which I'd forgotten, as well as without any receiving blankets. I'm pretty sure my husband warmed up the car. Son Number Two weighed eight pounds, seven ounces.
And a tradition was set. When Son Number Three, born three years later at eight pounds, two ounces, and then six years after that when Darling Daughter arrived on the scene, six pounds, six ounces, regardless of the weather or weight, each came home in the little white onesie.
I am a sentimental wuss, so I couldn't bear to part with the outfit, along with a few other cherished baby clothes, so I tucked them away in the attic.
Fast forward even further in time, to the arrival of adorable granddaughter (who turns three tomorrow!!). At seven pounds, two ounces, the little white onesie fit her perfectly for the trip home from the hospital.
And then two weeks ago, delightful grandson, all 9 pounds, 3.8 ounces of him, rode home in style in the little white onesie that his Daddy had worn all those years ago.
There is a Jewish expression, meant for more serious things, but seems right for this tale: L'Dor V'Dor – from generation to generation.
Evelyn David, the Northern half who is also known as Grandma
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