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5:54 a.m. - 2002-02-25


Well, The Croupy Kid is staying home from daycare today with Grandma who I think passed it on to him in the first place.

Now then...don't think I'm naive enough to think my mother in law actually gave him the croup. But I think she gave him a cold which developed into the croup. That's all I'm saying.

Anyway, I was chasing the kid around the house last night as he chewed on an old belt of mine (I never said the kid wasn't weird). And I got this picture of him where he doesn't look like a little baby anymore, he looks like a man.

I just thought that was such a cool picture. He's just kinda laid back, legs almost crossed, chewing on a belt, you know...taking it easy.

I could just imagine him at a business meeting, dressed all casual in his rhino shirt and shorts, discussing the company's withholdings and sucking on one of his daddy's old belts.

ANDREW: "You! Davidson! Tell me what our plans are to keep our manufacturing quota at an alltime low. Sucksucksucksucksuck."


I went to church by myself yesterday while Suze stayed home with the Croupy Kid. The only reason I went was because one of the church members' daughter was coming to church from Virginia and she was bringing her husband and "miracle baby" with them and the grandparents wanted me to shoot some video of the kid.

The baby truly is a miracle baby. They've tried to get pregnant several times, she's had two or three miscarriages and technically wasn't ever supposed to get pregnant.

Then she got pregnant, carried the baby to term and now here he is.

And man.

What an ugly little baby.

I know I should be more loving than that. We are talking about a MIRACLE BABY here. I've kinda got a miracle baby of my own. But if I had went through all that hardship and when the baby was finally born it looked like Willard Scott ... you can bet your sweet ass I'd look at that baby and say " that it?"

When I first saw the baby, the mother was holding him near her chest and he was sucking on a pacifier. So I couldn't see much more to him than his eyes.

And he had pretty eyes. Really blue with thick long eyelashes.

"Awwwwww," I said, scrambling for some halfway decent words to describe what I was seeing, before finally settling on "He's got such long eyelashes."

Most people say he's "precious" or "darling" or "beautiful".


Check out the eyelashes on the mongrel.

And I said it like his eyelashes are going to be posing a problem later on in life. But I didn't mean it. I mean...the kid had pretty eyes. Prettier than my boy's eyes. Hey...sorry the rest of his face looks like he was smashed with a shovel...take what you can get from Uncle Bob, Miracle Baby.

I took a picture of the baby to show Susie just how lucky we are to have a little boy that looks like a little boy and not a decorative plate.

Even Susie shivered from horror after seeing the baby's picture.

I'd post the baby's picture here, but I don't want to upset the mother in case she ever saw this page.



I'll show you the picture.

But I swear...if any of you know this baby and tell the mother and then she sees this site and cries and then everyone in church finds out about this site and they shun me and ban me and make me eat cheese, so help me GOD I will rain down on you with fists a'flying.

Here you go.







Told you.

The Olympics are over.

And so is this entry.


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