So I've been sick with the flu this week and bat-shit busy last week, so I haven't blogged for a month of Sundays. (thanks Grandma) I can only imagine you've been depressed and borderline suicidal without my unique, entertaining perspective.
Emily and I are only about seven weeks away from Child Launch 2008, when Sparky will enter the world with a list of demands: Diapers, boobs and naps. I can help him with the diapers and naps, but my nipples tend to chap like a bitch.
At any rate, the baby's room is nearly ready! Ahead of schedule, I might add... the paint is on, a wallpaper border added. Furniture is assembled and in place, and we have somewhere around 1,200 diapers standing by to catch all the Sparky colon jetsam.
We paid our annual Valentine's visit to The Melting Pot last night. Do you have any idea what that much freakin' cheese does to your system?
Fondue is always fun, but I wouldn't want to do it more than once a year. First, it would give me flashbacks to the 70's and way too much evil shit went on in my life back then; but moreover, I would gain about two hundred pounds.
Anyway, we had fun despite the waiter's very dry, almost mumbly persona.
Hey, somebody got Em roses!
There's a city in the St. Louis area that has banned baggy pants. Pine Lawn has decided that it would legislate dignity and self respect.
Now, I understand that some people hate those baggy pants with legs that drag the ground (not to mention the occasional showing-of-the-ass-crack) but what's next? You going to tell me what color lederhosen I can wear?
And what about plumbers? Are you willing to crack down on that crack?
I'll bet they haven't found a solution to their crime problems, but damned if they are going to let these ingracious little mall-monkeys wear loose pants.
When you're having a baby, you tend to plan his/her future even prior to birth. Such is the case with Sparky, who will attend UCLA and major in biochemistry with minors in psychology and history.
But occasionally Emily and I will stumble across something we don't agree on. For instance, will Sparky be allowed to have a kitchen set?
You're probably thinking, "gee, I wonder which side Dave's on..."
I'm not much into sexual stereotypes, and many (if not most) great chefs are male. (except the lovelies, Em, Paula and Blogarita) I have no problem with the Sparkster being the next Wolfgang Puck, but what does it say to your friends when they peek into a boy's room and instead of a Tonka road grader and one of those orange Matchbox car tracks with the loop-de-loop, they see an Easy Bake Oven?
"Hey Sparky, put away the football because it's time to whip up a nice quiche!"
I'm afraid if we get him a kitchen set, he'll never make quarterback at UCLA. Thoughts?