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Baby feet. I am very excited for little baby socks to go on this baby's feet, but I demand that they all feature ears, faces, or novelty tartan patterns.

11 weeks.  Maybe 10 now.  That’s it until Baby gets here.

That, of course, depends on Baby’s willingness to play ball.  She has been notoriously difficult as of late, keeping crazy hours and playing her music too loud, talking back and frequently kicking my wife in the ribs.  She is a bit of a menace.

It also leaves me with many things to finish, learn, and become before she gets here.

Baby To Do List:

  1. Build super-secret hideout room under the stairs. Okay, this isn’t priority number one, but it is definitely very important that I get moving on this before I turn around and realize that Baby is now 16 and only wants to use the hideout for making out with her boyfriend (thanks for that one, Ben).  There is a brilliant little storage space under the basement steps that is begging for a door with a window box full of fake flowers, a kid-sized recliner, a pile of pillows, and a reading lamp.  It’s the kind of place that I would like to make for myself.  In fact, I may just do that with the furnace room; Baby and I can retire to our private forts to read comic books and occasionally contact each other via the tin-cans-with-string telephone system that I will be running through the ceiling.
  2. Learn to puree things. I guess the trick is to hide fruit inside vegetables so that Baby will eat both and not reject those healthy, crappy vegetables that I even I don’t want to eat.  I’m thinking that she’ll love my Starfruit-Celery Delight, Persimmon-Parsley Paradise, and Guava-Cabbage Mush.
  3. Baby proof the whole house. I have knives everywhere in here.  I swear that every once in a while I reach under, in, or behind something and come out with a blade in hand, saying something like, “Damn, I hid a knife here?  Why the hell did I think that I would get attacked in this room?”  There are also bats, kali sticks, and bludgeons scattered around most of the doorways, and I have at least one booby-trap made from bamboo spikes and cyanide.  Looks like I’ll have to do a whole-house sweep before the crawling stage.  Either that or I need to do some blade-handling safety really early on.
  4. Appreciate frilly things. Who am I kidding?  I already do.
  5. Figure out how to attach a diaper so that it won’t leak. Duct tape should do it, right?
  6. Figure out how baby is supposed to sleep. Apparently, putting a baby on its stomach is a death sentence.  A few decades ago, putting a sleeping baby on its back was deadly.  Then the bumper pads in the crib turned out to be lethal, but the crib is already crushing the child’s limbs, so I don’t know which one to dispose of first.  Baby can’t sleep in our bed because I’ll squash her in my nighttime thrashings, and if I put her on the floor I’ll step on her.  I’m thinking that she may have to sleep in some kind of hammock system inside a laser-field, suspended by super-powerful magnets.
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