We were having lunch with a friend’s family when his eight year old son sat down across from me.
W: I have two separate and unrelated things to tell you.
Me: Okay, shoot.
W: First, I’m writing a book.
Me: What’s it called?
W: Ninja School. I have the first page done, which coincidentally is also the entire first chapter.
Me: Cool. What’s the second thing?
W: We’re having apple pie for dessert.
I know it’s too early for this really, but…
Harper is surrounded by rather ample-chested women. Her mother, and her mother-in-law, and now her Nanny. Genetics and all considered the odds are in her favor but for fucks sake what if she isn’t overly endowed?
ironically I’m much more of a booty guy and the whole chest thing…well I fell in love with E because of who she is. The rest is like, well, okay, great and all. But I’m raising my daughter amongst the cast of extras from a Russ Meyer film and I just don’t want to mess with her head.
Me: So you see Harper, by agitating the glass you increase the surface contact the vodka makes with the ice cubes therefore chilling the liquid faster.
Wife: Well that’s it, she’s clearly going to Stanford.
Had leftover roast pork from yesterday’s dinner so I tossed it in the Vitamix with a couple dried jalapeños. Ground them to a near slurry, added water and slowly simmered. Whipped up some arborio rice with cilantro, refried beans and shredded some sharp cheddar. Wrapped the whole deal in some lovely flour tortillas that I buy out of the back door of a factory in the South Bronx and dotted it with homemade guacamole and some green chili sauce I get from a guy off the Grand Concourse and sat down to eat.
Despite being silent during the three-four hours it took to prepare dinner Harper decided to wail like she’d been gutshot just as the first forkful approached my mouth. Fuck. Not convinced I am cut out for this.
for pulling to the curb on Fifth Avenue right in front of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, throwing on your flashers and changing your babies diaper on the tailgate of your SUV? If so I earned it yesterday.
The Nanny search has begun
Me: Jeez, in that pic it looks like she’s about to blow someone.
Wife: Isn’t that what you want, a Nanny who will blow you?
Me: Well yeah, but not if she looks like that…
Wife: WRONG ANSWER.
Nurse: Okay grab your…where’s your diaper bag?
Me: We don’t have one
Nurse: You need a diaper bag.
Wife: We looked for months but couldn’t find one we both liked. Have you seen how ugly those things are? Anyway, I finally found a Kate Spade design we loved last week but my husband hated the color scheme. We special ordered a custom version in black on black but it’ll be another week before it ships.
Nurse: (blank stare)
Nurse: You need a diaper bag.
I’m pretty new to this whole expectant father bit, so I’m finding my way as I go. Baby steps. One thing that has become apparent is that it is bad form to say “I would so totally wreck that” when you are in bed with your pregnant wife and an attractive woman appears on your television. Guess its a hormonal thing. Lesson learned.