Newslessness

Yet another ultrasound, and no, nothing new to report. Baby is still breach - which is neither fortunate nor unfortunate as far as we're concerned - and we are still happily in the dark over the whole wiener situation. So unless there is some early labour action, our due date is set for t-minus... Tuesday. We just have to show up on time.

In other related news - the reality of pending fatherhood was hammered home this long turkey-filled weekend while happily watching my Habs bully this season's stunted Leafs on Saturday night. Somewhere around beer number four, Terri startled both me and the dinner guests when she noted some discomfort. I became instantly sober - like in the movies or on television (imagine Tom Cruise in Cocktail, or post-LSD chicky in the Fringe pilot ep). Obviously this was a false call, but enough to suggest it would be my last foray into blissful drunkenness for some time. Perhaps this should have been obvious to me.

Ticktickticktick.