So the whole time I was carrying our first child, we referred to him as Chili.  I don’t remember how it all started, but Chili Davis was playing for the SF Giants at the time and I think that had something to do with it.  We were just bein’ goofy.  Now what I am about to tell you is the truth, and it still blows me away in the beyond-our-human-understanding department.

I wish I still had the SF Chronicle for Wednesday March 27, 1985.  Wednesday was the day the Food section was included, for planning weekends soirees, I guess.  Joe was born at 5:30 a.m. and after I scarfed down breakfast (delivery is a job that makes you eat like a man who’s been building a pyramid all day), the newspaper came via Al.  I opened up the food section, and there, in no less than four inch bold headline was that week’s theme for the food section.  I’m not lying:

CHILI!!!

Somehow it got thrown away but I’ve always wished I’d kept it.  Al and I were both pretty stunned.  All the more appropriate since Joe arrived with red hair.  He was born in a hospital in the Mission district which was populated mostly by Latinos and Asians.  I was known as the “mother of the little redhead.”  Even then he was special.

CHILI!!!  No kidding.  BOHU.