The last day or two at the hospital had been more routine and while Ava slept, I found myself making the rounds, exchanging gossip with Phyllis in the gift shop or Greg, the line chef in the basement cafe. My slippers and wristband identified me as a new Dad. Unless you've been able to experience … [Read more...] about Hefner And His Girls.
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Recovery And The ’67 Camaro.
One of the benefits of being a Dad, aside from not having to go through surgery or shoot a human out of your vagina, is being able to walk into the hospital lounge after delivery and announce the birth. In my case, we had already divulged the sex of the baby to everyone, so I was basically filling … [Read more...] about Recovery And The ’67 Camaro.
Plus One.
As we walked through our final set of electronic double-doors, we entered an isolated hallway outside of the operating room. I quickly scanned the area, taking inventory of my surroundings in the event the impossible happens and I need to go Jack Bauer on someone's ass during a hostile takeover. … [Read more...] about Plus One.
D-Day.
The good thing about a cesarean section (Ava was transverse in the womb) for me, aside from the free painkillers,was that it allowed me to see the finish line and get adequately pumped up for the event. It was like getting prepared for an interview. I've seen 'Knocked Up' a few times, so I know … [Read more...] about D-Day.
This Car Seat Is Cramping My Style.
Evidently 1966 has come and gone and you can't just give birth and hop in the front seat and takeoff for home. A car seat is mandatory and if you weren't aware of this, you probably shouldn't be having a kid. I waited until the morning of delivery to try and install this plastic migraine. I was … [Read more...] about This Car Seat Is Cramping My Style.
Forget About The Game, We’ve Got Shit To Do.
I've been a die-hard Philadelphia Phillies fan since I was 8 years old. Framed 1980 World Series Pennants in my room, autographed Jamie Moyer ball on my nightstand, a dozen jerseys hanging in the closet. In times of extreme boredom, I'll break out the powder blue Mike Schmidt for no reason, walk to … [Read more...] about Forget About The Game, We’ve Got Shit To Do.
