Aftermath
Albert and Jill Alshuler stood at the side of the crib and stared down. The baby was the most average looking baby ever.
“Hello,” Bert said to it, touching the infinitely tiny toes with a forefinger. “Hello, little superman.”
“One week old,” Jill said. “It seems so tiny to be anything but the most normal of children.”
“Ummm.” He cocked his head slightly. “Do you think that Katz and Marsh are off their courses on all this?”
She looked up into his face. “You know, darling, I truly hope that they are. Then we’d have the same type little one as anyone else.”
The little one in question looked up at them, gurgled and said, “Hello.”
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