Essie burst into the room.

Well, that wasn't unusual — Essie always burst into rooms. It was the look on her face, though, that made Doug put down his hacksaw. It wasn't very often he saw his wife in a state of panic.

"Essie?"

She groped for words. It didn't seem to be about Josh: he was right there, tucked baby-perfect into her elbow and chewing on her knuckle,looking as content as a five-month-old teething baby could. Staying in the church nursery during Sunday school obviously hadn't done him any bodily harm. The walk home perhaps? Had something happened then?

"Promise me!" she blurted out finally.

Doug stashed the saw in its proper drawer and began walking toward Essie to take Josh."Promise you what?"

"Promise me Josh will never make bathroom jokes, or think crawling under the sanctuary pews is cool, or try to blow Kool-Aid out his nose because he was dared to, or draw the Apostles having a belching competition on his gospel lesson papers — promise me!"

Doug tucked Josh onto his shoulder, feeling his shirt dampen. His new son seemed to be a constant source of saliva."Slow down, Essie...."

Which was useless,since Essie had now begun to pace the tiny workshop they'd carved out on the back porch of their San Francisco apartment."Promise me he'll never see who can say booger ten times fastest, or bark like a puppy for ten straight minutes while someone's trying to teach him about forgiveness, and that he will possess the seemingly rare ability to sit still for thirty seconds, and that he won't turn into one of them!"

Doug wasn't sure there was a safe response to that. He tried to catch Essie's hand as she