It's All for The Baby

After beginning this blog, I was encouraged by a professional blogger to "Post, post, post because content drives readership!"

So, dagnabbit, I'm gonna post once a quarter if it kills me!

I've definitely taken my sweet time to get back to brickabrac, and I've a hunch the seeds of my steadfast commitment will not blossom into blogging super stardom without, well, steadfast commitment.

Big news: the wife's pregnant. Better news: I'm the dad. Bad news: the forfeiture of my side of the bed has occurred.

Am I the only one with the rocks to contend that the manly side of the bed is closest to the bedroom door; the door where thieves and murderers would obviously enter before assailing a peaceful, sleeping wife? I've been given a God-ordained duty to protect and cherish my bride. So how, might I ask, can I do this without being first to my feet, bowie knife between my teeth and .38 in my hand ready to pounce on the unsuspecting bastard as the handle reaches 3/4 turn?

My wife, on the other hand, believes my coma-like sleep to be no hindrance to the onslaught of said attackers. She always injects something about my drool and night-gas being of more protective use than my fists and weapons. She also says silly stuff like, "I need an easy way to roll my belly out of bed more times per week than when you need to protect me from rapists."

Humph, women.