I’ve been surprised a few times in my life. Most recently it was at my kitchen table while visiting with immediate family, parents, nephew Kane and David, a newly transplanted youth pastor from Birmingham.

Our simple hamburger and fries lunch was the perfect transition between the wake I’d attended that morning and my dad’s 80th birthday dinner that evening.

As soon as I finished eating, my daughter Monique — who was producing the slideshow for the birthday party —  handed a photo lab envelope to me and said, “I’ve got two more pictures for tonight.”

“Put them in my basket with the centerpieces,” I said.

“Just look at them,” she said.

I looked at both pictures. The first was one of her daughter Olivia standing on a lawn chair. I thought, “Cute, but is it really necessary?”

The second was an ultrasound picture. I said, “Monique, do you really think everyone wants to see Olivia’s ultrasound picture?”

“Look again,” she said.

I noticed the ultrasound baby had a pink crown sticker on her head. Still confused, I took another look at Olivia’s picture and read the shirt she was wearing — “Big Sister.” Then I screamed.

“Now you can bury the lemon,” my mom said as the congratulatory comments quieted.

For those unfamiliar with the fertility lemon tradition, Monique explained, “When I was assigned to cover a St. Joseph’s altar, I was told that the bowl of lemons was for women who want to have a baby. They must steal a lemon and when they conceive, they must bury it. I didn’t have a purse so I asked Mimi to take one for me.”

The question of whether it was my mom who should be the one expecting ensued, which thankfully overshadowed the fact that I was the last at the table to realize that Monique is expecting. I thank God, the giver of life, who knew that as we prayed to Him for Monique’s family to enlarge, He had already blessed her with another daughter.

Monique and her husband Frank will welcome their new baby girl, Charlie Marie (named in honor of her grandparents and her dearly missed best friend Marie Ory DuPont), around March 15.

Lunch was a little different that day, and I wonder if that’s why Kane and David have not been to my home since. 

Ronny Michel may be reached atrmichel@rtconline.com.