Pardon me for boasting, but I have a new grandchild.

Chaz Russell Bonorden is his name.

That makes a total of nine, including one great-granddaughter. Five females and four males.

My son and his wife are the proud parents of Chaz Russell, who has a four-year older brother, Ezekiel, also at home.

As my daughter-in-law’s (Dil) tummy grew in size, so did the anticipation of the birth. I enjoyed pestering Zeke about when the baby would arrive in the world.

“Your mom’s tummy is getting bigger every day, when is the baby going to come out?” I asked him. “He’s not ready yet,” he would reply indignantly.

It was like waiting for a German chocolate cake to bake.

The birth occurred last Thursday morning (Jan. 21) at AMC-Mayo, where the skilled professionals of the Women’s Special Care unit and the physician in charge engineered yet another miracle of God.

I was never allowed in the delivery room for the birth of my two children. I was lucky the ex-wife allowed me in the room at conception.

My son was there for the birth of both sons.

“What was it like?” I asked him after Chaz Russell made his appearance.

“Similar to reading one of your columns,” he replied. “Lots of boring nonsense, followed by one moment of excitement and joy.”

Somewhere my ex-wife is smiling.

This grandparent announced the birth that same day to anyone stuck in the elevator with me at Pickett Place, friends at the Austin Noon Lions Club and anybody else who made eye contact with me that day.

I called my daughter, a granddaughter who is the mother of my great-granddaughter, a good friend at Blue Earth and was put on hold when I called the president in D.C.

I did more of the same the day after, telling strangers at Pickett Place the news.

I was tempted to tell anyone I met wherever I went Saturday, until I met a woman in the laundry room that morning. After interjecting the news into conversation about the weather and the Vikings, I was stopped when the woman told me about the premature birth of a grandchild on Christmas Eve who weighed only two pounds.

Fortunately, I had the good sense to stop telling stories about my six pound 15 ounce on-time grandson’s birth and could only say my congratulations to her and my sincerest wishes for the child’s future.

The “I’ve got a new grandchild” chatter continued at Sunday church services, where friends are used to “Bonorden Blabber.”

The only question I couldn’t answer was “Who does he look like? His mother or his father?”

Never could see the resemblance of a newborn child to anyone else even when I could see better.

It’s been a week now since my world was changed, and I’ve slowed down in my Chaz Russell’s birth storytelling.

I realize there are so many other parents and grandparents who could tell far more interesting accounts of other babies’ births.

Besides, it worries my son and Dil just what I’m saying about the birth. They know the power this column wields…when not being edited by the brain trusts at the Herald.

Spiderman put it best…”With great power, comes great responsibilities.”

Added responsibilities that Papa Bonorden will have for Chaz Russell.

How to throw a curve ball. Where to scratch. How to get to the tobacco shop. And accepting the Sport Illustrated swimsuit issue for what it is…a work of art.

Note: Despite the exaggerations, fabrications, embellishments, half-truths and possibly off-medication interpretations…this column was approved for publication by Chaz Russell’s parents: Melissa and Ryan Bonorden and older brother Ezekiel.