A new baby is like the beginning of all things - wonder, hope, a dream of possibilities.

- Eda J. le Shan

I'm a great uncle.

No, really.

My father called Friday afternoon while I was at work and informed me that my niece - his granddaughter - had given birth.

"Great!" I said, quoting Tony the Tiger, one of my favorite philosophers.

In the background I heard a baby crying.

"Baby says, 'Hi,'" Old Granddad added matter-of-factly.

"You know, this makes you a great-grandfather," I said. "You should probably call Social Security. I think you get a pay raise."

"I'll do it!" he said, sounding excited at the possibility, then hung up.

Well, I went back to work. Fridays are pretty busy down here at News R Us, and about an hour passed before I remembered my wife might want to know about the baby.

So I called and her mood was beyond ecstatic.

"That's won-der-ful!" she said, like I was Ed McMahon passing out Publishers Clearing House checks.

Then she added, "What's her name?"

I was quiet for about five seconds, before I decided to respond honestly.

"I didn't ask," I said.

"What?" she said in that voice she uses when she finds Hooters napkins in my glove compartment.

"Well, how big is she?"

"I don't know."

"How long is she?"

"They didn't say."

How much did she weigh?"

"Uhhhhh ..."

The conversation clearly wasn't going well, which confused me because I thought I would get points for remembering to call and let her know about the new baby.

"So I guess you didn't ask about her hair, either?" my wife asked in a tone that suggested I might be the dumbest thing she'd come across in years.

"No," I said dumbly.

"You are such a guy," she said in disgust. "I'm calling your mother right now."

At first I thought she was calling to tell on me, but then I realized she just wanted to find out the answers to her endless list of baby questions.

She called back in two minutes to say, "Madelyn Grace; 7 pounds, 12 ounces; 20 inches long. Dark hair."

"That's great," I told America's newest great-aunt.

And it is.