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5 a.m. - Thursday, October 19th,2000


* My wife's been having quite a lot of bloody noses lately due to the pregnancy.

* The last two days, I've been listening to "Celebrity Jeopardy" MP3s from "Saturday Night Live" a little too much.

* Well .... I guess that's it. I share EVERY single minute detail of my life with you people. There's nothing left to tell you. You know EVERYTHING there is to know about me now. Why???



Yes, I am.


You betcha.

But you cannot dare say, that Uncle Bob holds back.

Nope...I share ALL THE NEWS big and small, until I've finally bored you all

Wow...I'm a poet and I didn't realize it.

(Sorry...old jokes of mine die hard)

Anyway ... on to more boring tidbits about my personal life that you probably have no business knowing about.


Yeah right. So anyway...

Went to a home daycare yesterday just to make sure last week's nightmare wasn't the norm around these parts. wasn't.

This woman had her composure much more together than last week's woman. Last week's observation of a woman and her home daycare kept giving me the mental image of this woman having a heart attack and the kids poking her with toys. She was super stressed and I'm sure her blood pressure is out the window.

Yesterday's lady was much, much more calm and quiet. Granted, all the kids were having a nap, but there's a much larger play area there, a much more "fun" backyard with swingsets and play houses, and she had every activity lesson scheduled by the minute. She guarantees the kid will be reading by the age of 3, barring any bad brain dysfunctions that he might have inherited from me. And she has most of the kids writing their names before they talk. looks like caveman scrawl, but if you're a proud parent, it's pretty easy to see the word "IAN" in a series of lines.

...Let's see her teach my little genius to spell "ANDREW".

If he's anything like his old man, my kid'll be nine before he picks that up.

So, to make a long story one more sentence longer... we're going with yesterday's lady.

(Applause fills the room. Reporters jump to their feet and start shoving microphones in Uncle Bob's face, asking more questions about the day care lady from yesterday.)

That's it. No more questions, please.

We were s'posed to have an Infant CPR class last night.

Key southern slang word = "s'posed".

We arrived at the hospital with about a minute until class started. We have to wait forever for an elevator. We get to the floor where the class is going to be held -- Susie has to stop and stare in the nursery windows and point out each baby with a "LOOOOOOK!!!" like a little kid staring at the puppies in a pet shop ... I'm standing there totally freaking out and thinking "We're missing the class!! We're missing the class!!"

She reminds me that I'm with a pregnant woman and nobody expects pregnant women to arrive on time.

She's actually right. Four more couples showed up after we did ... one as late as 7:15. I was mildly shocked. Meaning I was shocked and offended on the inside but on the outside I just nodded my head and smiled if they made eye contact, not displaying any of the inner shock that I was currently experiencing.

So then, then...oh man...then at 7:30, the teacher cancels the class because the classroom that we're S'POSED to be meeting in is full of artwork from earlier that day.

Yes, in Alabama, hospitals double as art museums because they're usually the nicest buildings in the city.

Banks too.

Meanwhile..I'm just staring at this lady thinking "We have three weeks left until our baby is you REALLY think I wanted to waste a large chunk of my free time getting ready for this class, driving to and from this hospital to be kept waiting for 30 minutes before being told that y'all's dumb asses can't find a room we're S'POSED to be inside where we're S'POSED to be learning how to save our child's life???"

I think she picked up the vibe because she burst into tears, screamed "I'M SORRY!" threw down her books and ran out of the room sobbing.

Well ... not really. But she did say we could call the hospital and voice our displeasure if we wanted to.

Hmmm...tell one person who happens to be answering the phone at a busy front desk??

Or tell the Army?


My apologies...I still have Olympic Fever.


Went for my second physical therapy session yesterday. The guy really is getting my arm to straighten out a tiny bit more.

I've always liked being handled like that. Not necessarily by a man, mind you ... but I've just never minded being prodded by doctors except for the ummmmm...personal areas. You know..."Get your finger outta my ass, Doc, before I pinch it off." That kinda stuff.

I guess it's because this is a 20 minute massage on my arm. A 20 minute massage is good no matter where it's given.

So I was really enjoying the massage when my therapist wants to start talking about the debates because he knows I work at a newspaper and thinks I'm interested.

Call me disillusioned ... but I don't care who wins the presidential election this go-round. I guess I'd vote for Gore, but it doesn't matter because my state's already going to vote for Bush.

Has it ever been more obvious that I don't know a thing about politics than right now??

So I had to lay there and let him twist my arm like spaghetti while listening to his takes on the debates.

Mm-hmm. Kill me now Mr. Physical Therapist. Please don't let me lay here another minute listening to you prattle on and on about Gore rolling his eyes.

There should be a rule for people who have to deal closely with customers ... you must have something of interest to discuss while dealing with said customer if it's for a period longer than five minutes.

But he's a good guy and down to earth.

And he's got some awesome hands, ladies.

What the hell am I saying??

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That Sinking Feeling - 6:09 a.m. , 2008-10-28

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