Sometime in the first week of December, four of my favorite people are scheduled to become six of my favorite people.In a cosmic confluence of impressive proportions, Amy, the wife of my son, John, and Carly, the wife of my son, Paul, are both due to pop out babies on consecutive days in December.To say I am thrilled would vastly understate the situation.John and Paul are my youngest sons, and, of my seven widgets, they are the last to get into the parenting business. As the two couples march in near unison toward the great adventure called parenthood, they are sharing a series of prenatal experiences.On successive days, in separate states, both mommies-to-be underwent 3-D ultrasound examinations.The exams are meant to check the progress and health of the little hitchhiker, while he or she remains snug and warm under mom's belly button. As a secondary benefit of modern science, the exam can also answer the ever burning question, "Are you having a boy or a girl?"These four parents-in-process came up with different approaches to that inquiry.Paul and Carly opted to see what flavor baby was on their agenda. The little darling was sitting in a sufficiently immodest pose to make it clear to everybody involved that Paul and Carly have a little girl in their future.John and Amy pondered whether they wanted to know if they needed to decorate in pink or blue.Finally they decided to ah, er, well, skirt the issue. They had the ultrasound technician simply avoid getting any images that would give even a hint of what soon-to-be-announced gender might be.At the same time, they didn't like the idea of referring to their future offspring as "the baby" or worse still as "it."So they called the baby-onboard Jamie. Applying an impressive level of logic, my son explained the name is a combination of "John and Amy," and works for the future pink or blue contingent.For their part, Paul and Carly aren't offering even hints about what name they have in mind. I certainly understand their restraint.Otherwise reasonable, even mature people, who would hesitate to offer an opinion on what color their adult children should paint their house, are more than willing to tell these same kids what to name their child.When my son, Jared, and his dear wife, Stephanie, were expecting a child they began telling anybody who would listen that their baby — male or female — would be named Kong.Jared and Steph are a wonderful, if unorthodox couple. Early in their marriage the new couple used to give each other swords, battle axes, and morning stars — which they both collect — for Christmas and birthday gifts. As a result, anybody who knew the pair couldn't entirely discount that little-soon-to-be-announced could in fact be named Kong. Instead they named their son, Tanis, for an ancient Egyptian city. By comparison, we were all pleased with the name.I don't have a clue what the names of our new crew of "twin" cousins will be. I don't really care. I'm pleased they will both call me Grandpa one day, and I will love them regardless of what their parents call them, but if they were named Roger or Rogena that would be fun, too.