Excessive

I suck at math.

And I don't just mean my brain.  My entire body sucks at math.

For instance - humans are supposed to sleep eight hours a night.  That leaves 16 hours of being awake - so one hour of sleep generates two hours of being awake.  Correct?

But last night, I took a 45 minute nap, and then laid awake in bed for three hours later that night.  How does that makes sense?  I signed up for one and a half hours of awakedness, body - this is simple multiplication.

The night before?  I drank two beers and got a hangover.  TWO BEERS.  But on the Friday night before that?  Eight beers and had zero hangovers.

What gives, body?  What kind of crazy math are you using?  I'm the only person with an abacus as an internal organ. 

It also appears that my body is punishing me for any sort of moderation. 

45 minute nap?  Fuck you - I nap for four hours or I don't nap at all.  Two beers?  It takes me two beers to brush my teeth - you drink a case or you stay at home, Nancy Boy.

It's like my body wants me to just drink a bunch of beer and stay out late every night.

Wait, what was I complaining about, again?

Ill Logical

Guys and Gals, I'm worried.

I'm obsessed with logic.  I can't stand doing something in a way that doesn't make the most sense.

Don't believe me?  When I run errands I think through the entire trip.  Lowe's is first because it is on the right-hand side of the road, therefor I won't have to cross traffic to pull in.  The pet store is next because it is on the left-hand side of the road, so when I pull out, I can turn right and be heading back home.  The grocery is last because I have to plan the trip in the backwards order of how I want to unload the car - and the grocery items will be the first that need to be put away.

THESE THINGS HAPPEN IN MY HEAD.

Same goes for the office.  I specifically print out all documents at the exact time I finish my cup of coffee so that I can pee, pick up the papers and get a refill at the exact same time.

It isn't just in how I act, but the things I enjoy.  Zombie movies are great because the main characters are just people that found themselves in the middle of a really bad flu season.  I can relate to that.  I can't relate to action movies where a guy goes an entire two hours without dropping his cell phone or misspelling the word 'restaurant'.

But now?  Now I'm going to have a kid making a lot of my important decisions.

Have you met kids?  They hate logic.  They're like, "DAD I WANT MASHED POTATOES WITH MY GRAPES BECAUSE THAT'S HOW UNICORNS EAT IT!"

How the hell am I going to cope with that.  "Oh, you want to wear your frog boots to bed because you might have a dream about sea turtles?  That makes sense.  You do that while Daddy runs this knife over his wrist really slowly."

My kid is going to end up having adult conversations by the time he is 4.  I'll tell him about potty training and he'll be like, 'WHAT THE HELL, DAD?  I'VE BEEN WALKING AROUND IN MY OWN CRAP AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN TELL ME THERE WAS ANOTHER OPTION?  HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO CRAP WHILE STANDING UP?  IT IS TERRIBLE.  I COULD'VE JUST BEEN SITTING ON THE TOILET THE ENTIRE TIME?  WHAT AN ASSHOLE!"

But I still bet he wears his frog boots on the potty.

Sex?

As mentioned previously, someone got me wet and I've started sprouting off little miniature gremlin Narms.  Which is a funny way to say that my wife is pregnant.

Well, funny to me.  She doesn't see the humor in it.  I told her it could be worse, she could have to lay a giant egg and then sit on it for nine months.  She didn't see the humor in that either.  Something tells me I'm doing this wrong.

In an effort to make up for these horrible jokes, I have granted my wife her wish and we will not be finding out the sex of Baby Narm.

Which begs the question - which do I want - a boy or a girl?

With a boy, he would be into super heroes and sports and we could grow beards together.

But it would be hard watching a jubilant, happy young boy slowly realize he is going to grow up to be a nonathletic, balding short guy with no real discernible skills outside of fart jokes.  

If we have a girl, she would be cute and spoiled and finally give my wife someone to shop with so I don't have to sleep on the benches outside of Macy's.

But she would also do that annoying thing girls do where they make-up dance moves to songs by taking every lyric literally.  Plus, I have a huge nose resting below a unibrow - and I don't think that is a good look for a teenage girl tying to fit in with the cool kids.

So, in the end, I don't really care - boy or girl, blue or pink - I'll love that kid the same either way.

I just hope for one thing...

...it has its mother's genes.  

Going Bananas

I've learned a ton about fruits and vegetables lately.

First - apple seeds.

Then, peas.

After that, I was reading about blueberries.  

I became more engrossed - prunes, limes, peaches, oranges, onions, mangoes.  My browser history read like a really boring advertisement for Fruit of the Loom.

Each week became more interesting - reading about how they grew, how they developed, the specific ways they survived and matured.

Now I've learned that this is the week my little pomegranate grows eye lashes and can sense light.

Babies.  If you didn't get it.  I'm talking about babies.  Specifically my baby.

Well, not MY baby.  I don't own it.  It is the baby in which I created.  Laaaaaaadies.

And it has been damn exciting watching it grow from a pea to an apple to a pomegranate.

Although there is a tinge of fear in my wife's eyes as she reads the weekly updates.

She's afraid of the week we learn about watermelons.  

I'm Feline Tired

* This is an actual photo of my cat, Baffi, taken at 5am this morning.  Blogging will resume when he has allowed me to sleep more than 3 consecutive hours.  Sub-question - how long do cats normally live?


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