After explaining to me that Spanish names sounded better, JT named his baby Luis Miguel. I think that Latin American baseball players may have played a role in this decision. When Luis Miguel settled in to a habit of eating every two hours, JT announced that he was raising a big hitter.
In fact, Luis Miguel behaved rather remarkably like a real baby. He needed frequent attention and we had to sort out why he was crying. The crying changed in tone when he recognized that a loved one was caring for him (there was electronic recognition from a bracelet JT wore). Then JT had to sort out why he was upset - did he need a fresh diaper? was he hungry? did he wish to be burped? did he just want to be held and rocked? By the second day, JT was largely able to figure out what Luis Miguel needed.
Of much greater value, however, were the conversations that Luis Miguel generated. We talked about what it's like to care for a baby, how big a responsibility it is, and how nice it feels to know what the baby needs. He asked what it was like when he was a baby and he seemed genuinely surprised to discover just how much work was involved in caring for a newborn.
With any luck he also learned that he's not ready to be a teenaged father. Because I am not quite ready to be a Grand Mama.