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Milo had his six-month check up yesterday at the pediatrician, wherein we learned that he has found his percentile, according to the doctor, and it is the 25th. (The fightin' 25th, I want to say, indicating that I am clearly watching too much Colbert Report.)

That is to say, 75 percent of all the other six-month-olds out there are bigger than Milo. He also weighs 16 lbs, which is three more pounds than I weighed when I was a year old, but then again, he is a boy and I was extra tiny. The doctor revealed this news, then squinted at me and Steven and said, "Yes, that seems about right."

This is one of two things the doctor usually says. The other thing he says is "Don't worry, it's fine." Steven and I were joking on the walk home that the guy just sits in his office all day saying "Don't worry, it's fine," over and over and over.

"My kid only rolls over one way."

"Don't worry, it's fine."

"My kid drools like Niagara Falls."

"Don't worry, it's fine."

"My kid has an extra foot growing out of his head."

"Don't worry, it's fine."