A few weeks ago, we noticed a big ugly purplish, slightly raised blotch on Lennie’s chest. It looked most painful, but she didn’t seem to be bothered by it. We had just gotten home from a weekend trip and wondered if her car seat belt had been too tight and bruised her. When it didn’t go away pretty quickly, we took her to the doctor (this was the occasion of the destruction of my carnie dreams), and it turned out that the mark is a hemangioma, and a pretty darned mild one, based on some of the pictures out there. Naturally, I can’t help but think of Chuck Mangione when I see the mark.

Lucky as one might count oneself to find an acclaimed trumpeteer (and not just a vaguely homophonic birthmark) on his infant daughter’s chest (it’s rather like finding Jesus in a cinnamon bun), I can’t help thinking that I’m luckier than even such a fortunate person to have turned up with a happy, healthy baby.