Nursery Zen

'Tis Monday so I shall wax philosophical.

This weekend, Mrs. Undaground and I worked diligently to begin putting the Undaling's nursery together. We painted the room in two colors: green on top and yellow on the bottom. The colors are separated by a light blue wallpaper border. The furniture is assembled and placed in the most aesthetically pleasing way. The characters will soon adorn the walls, but that will be a process that takes several weeks.

As I sit here and type, my back is killing me. I'm extremely tired and could use a nap. While we're proud of our effort to this point, we know there is still a lot of work to do, and hope than the decisions we make in the room are good ones. Picking the wrong character could alter the tone of the whole room.

This weekend was a lesson in patience, and, now that I think about it, a good metaphor for our task that will begin in about 79 days.

After bending for what seemed like forever to paint the bottom half of the walls yellow, we realized that one coat wasn't going to cut it. Despite our fatigue and our shared back pain, we pressed on and added a second coat. Sure, furniture would cover most of the area we were concerned about, but we know the walls are better for it. I know there will be times when we will want to take the easy way out in our parenting, but we can remember the time we put a second coat of yellow on his walls and know that our extra effort will make a big difference.

Assembling the crib was something I thought would be quick and easy. Unfortunately, all of my nice Home Depot tools were useless because of the way the crib was built. In order to properly tighten the screws, I had to lay down on the floor with a tiny allen wrench and turn the screw 1/2 turn at a time. It was maddening. My wife did her best to hold the pieces of wood together for me as I muttered words I didn't know existed. Eventually, I slowed down, and enjoyed the music piping through our house as I started to methodically turn the screw 1/2 turn over and over and over again. Soon, the pieces of wood were flush against each other and we had assembled a sturdy shelter for our child to sleep in. Patience is something I'm going to need to get better at, in a hurry. My wife could be a member of the patience hall of fame, so I will learn from her.

Finally, as we worked together to slowly force every last air bubble out of the wallpaper border, I realized that soon we will be working together to coax air bubbles out of the Undaling. Who knew that hanging wallpaper would be such a lesson in child-rearing? Burp.

Right now, the nursery looks awesome. It's exciting to know that it will only get better once the Seuss characters are painted. I'll put up pictures once the entire room is ready for baby.

I'll post my Superman review tomorrow, based on the excitement over the film on the comments page.

Hooky

I decided to take the day off today so we could get an early jump on painting the nursery.

The furniture is out of the room.
The room is taped off.
The walls have been primed.

All of my painting goals have been reached for today. Now, on to my personal goals:

See Superman
Eat a meal at a restaurant

By the way, I've lost about 4 pounds since Sunday by eating less calories than I burn and riding the bike. I've calculated that I can go to Chili's today and split the teriyaki wings with my wife, eat a cheeseburger, and enjoy two beers. Even then, I'll still be eating less calories than I burn. Here's a website where you can see calorie content at popular restaurants.

Pregnancy Update: 28 weeks

Mrs. U was 28 weeks yesterday. 12 weeks to go! 83 days til the due date.

I'm pleased to announce that I've been signed up for:

• A hospital tour
• A 3-week Lamaze class
• An infant safety/CPR class

I was never a big classroom guy. I liked to get the notes and cram for the test. I guess I can't get away with that in this situation. I feel that I can be a very effective Lamaze coach. I coached little league way back in the day. If nothing else, I can repeat the phrases "Wait for your pitch" and "Keep it in front of you".

Thankfully, I've been spared from the breastfeeding class. Mrs. Undaground asked them if it was necessary for me to attend, and they said no, not unless I started lactating. (I would probably call the media first if I did).

A few years ago, some good friends of ours were pregnant, and my friend Dave did attend the breastfeeding class with his wife. For some reason, this struck us both funny at the time and we giggled like a couple of 5th graders. I wanted to know which of the three possible scenarios played out in the class demonstration:

1. Plastic boob and plastic baby

2. Plastic boob and real baby

3. Real boob and real baby

It turned out, for the record, that it was a plastic boob and plastic baby. There was, however, a video shown featuring the real thing. I think I'll see plenty of that beginning in October. My wife has assured me that she won't be a public, if-your-face, look-at-these breastfeeder. That's a good thing because I don't really have the energy to collect a cover charge and a two-drink minimum from everybody who comes to visit.

In the news

Lance Bass, formerly of Nsync, has revealed to People Magazine that he's gay.

In other news, scientists have confirmed the presence of life on Earth, and doctors have announced that hitting yourself in the head with a tire iron can be hazardous to your health.

The Rapidly Shrinking Man

Well, not quite, but I'm trying.

The Slimfast thing isn't so bad. I'm actually eating more often than I was before. I'm just taking Oprah's advice about "portion control".

Here's what I eat, for those of you who have a pregnant wife and have gained 15 or more pounds since conception (or if you're just curious).

Breakfast: Slimfast Optima Shake (these aren't so bad, but you have to chill them very cold and drink them before they get to room temperature - kind of like Jagermeister).

Snack: 125 calories. This translates as a cup of grapes or cherries, an ounce of pretzels or a Slimfast snack bar (these are pretty good. There's one that tastes like a 5th Avenue candy bar).

Lunch: Slimfast Optima Shake, 6 oz fat-free yogurt, cup of cherries or grapes.

Snack: 125 calories.

EXERCISE BIKE for 20-30 minutes at vigorous pace (that's supposed to burn somewhere btwn 300 and 400 calories according to my research).

Dinner: 500 calories of whatever. Here's where I'm not really counting calories. I'm just trying to avoid huge portions of mayo, sour cream, cheese, etc.

Snack: 125 calories. Dessert. We found some fruit bars that are 50 calories. They seem to be fine, but I will miss the ice cream and occasionally send it a card or a letter on nice stationary.

Right now, my danger zone is from the time I get home from work until bedtime. That's where the weight gain has occured. For the next few days, my will power will be tested during this time. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to sprint to the bathroom.

Monday

Slimfast
I had my first "healthy shake" for breakfast. I don't normally eat breakfast, so I hope my body doesn't think it's being attacked. I don't think I've lost any weight yet. Maybe I need to be more patient. My mother sent me an email and warned me to stay near a bathroom if I'm doing the Slimfast. I'm not sure what she means, but I guess I'll find out. If I do find out, I'll probably keep that information to myself.

Beach Bum
I spent some time on the beach this weekend. I think it's the first time since my honeymoon that I sunbathed on a beach. SPF 15 worked pretty well, but I missed a spot on my belly. I didn't realize you can get sunburn in your belly button. It's true.

Crab Legs
Cooking tip. If you steam crab legs on your grill in the backyard, don't forget to turn off the side burner, burn off all the water, and scorch the stock pot and the crab legs. The odor is pretty strong. The first batch was great. The second batch might start a neighborhood stink war.

The Man in the Mirror

To quote the King of Pop:

I'm starting with the man in the mirror
(Ooh!)
I'm asking him to change his ways
(Ooh!)
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
(If you wanna make the world a better place)
Take a look at yourself and then make a change
(Take a look at yourself and then make a change)

I walked by a mirror the other day. I'm not talking about the kind of mirror that sits above the sink, showcasing the face and the hair. I'm talking about the full-length wall mirror near our living room. Yes, I walk past this mirror just about every day, but this time was different. I got home from my softball game and Mrs. Undaground was out of the house. I had worked up a pretty good sweat, so I thought I'd throw all my clothes right in the washing machine and do the nude sprint across the house to get to the shower. As I passed the mirror, I thought for a moment that some naked fat guy was chasing me, until I came to the sick realization that I was that guy. That moment may have changed my life. The man in the mirror is quickly turning into the "before" picture in any bowflex infomercial.

A few days later, I walked next door to the cafeteria for my lunch break. To be fair, I only go there about once a week. The woman behind the counter smiled and said, "Hi. Would you like your usual..." Then she went on to name a dish that is anything but healthy. My ears hurt from hearing it. How I wanted Superman to fly around the world and turn back time so I could tell this woman that my "usual" is field greens with balsamic vinagrette on the side. I could feel the eyes in the cafeteria fixed on me and judging me, wondering who is the farm animal who had the cajones to allow this delicious, yet deadly dish to be referred to as "his usual".

I have been proudly pronouncing that I'm trying to keep up with Mrs. Undaground for the past few months. I've been like some junk food cheerleader. Last week, she even told me that I was a bad influence on her as far as the food thing is concerned. And, believe me, I have been. I've been milking this thing as much as I can. We've watched our bellies grow together. I guess the one minor difference in this whole equation is that I don't have another human being growing inside of me, unless we've made some kind of genetic breakthrough I'm unaware of and we're having fraternal twins.

I believe that because of the fat guy in the mirror and my public embarrassment in the cafeteria, I've now reached the level of shame necessary for me to have a healthy shake for breakfast, and another for lunch. That's right. Beginning Monday, I'm on the SlimFast diet. I can't hold out til the baby's born. I may reach the point of no return if I stay on this road.

My belly has gone from a distinguished beer gut, to a manageable paunch, to the present situation, that can best be described as "cartoonish". I can no longer sit in idle as buttons pop off of my pants. One too many t-shirts now sit in the useless pile that can't be worn in public. The belly-shelf is growing. From a sitting position, I can now use the belly-shelf to hold the remote control, a glass of water, and an Armenian orphan on a tricycle. It's time to make a change.

I've said this before, and look where I am. Who knows, I think I'm serious this time. I don't want to be skinny. I just want to manage this growth before it gets out of control. I've accepted the fact that I'll never see my abdominal muscles again unless I fall into a well and live off of crickets for a few months. I yearn to wear horizontal stripes again.

Today, I am committing to two weeks on the Slimfast diet, beginning Monday. I will reassess the situation then and decide how to proceed. I've been to their website and I have a battle plan. Until then, I will do my best to avoid the pre-diet binge.

Pregnancy Update

Today, Mrs. Undaground is 27 weeks pregnant. This begins the third trimester of the pregnancy, or what we're calling "The Swollen Feet Era". Each day, I'm watching as my wife gets more uncomfortable. It doesn't help that we're smack dab in the middle of a South Florida summer.

We've revealed the name to most of our family and friends. If you really want to know and you're family or friend, shoot me an email and I'll share. I've chosen not to put the name out there on this blog because I don't want our choice to suddenly sweep the nation and become really popular. When they named the baby Emma on Friends, Emma shot up in popularity. I have a few less readers than Friends had viewers, but you never know.

I'm still watching Rock Star: Supernova, but it's not as good as Rock Star: INXS was. I wish INXS was looking for another singer and they could just do the show again.

Last Comic Standing is fairly unwatchable, but that hasn't stopped me from watching it. I can't explain why. Maybe I have a problem. I might need to join some kind of tivo anonymous group because I continually expose myself to crap with the simple click of a remote control.

Howdy

I took the day off from the blog on Monday. Sometimes, I just don't have anything interesting to say. It was an eventful weekend, but there were no real blog material moments to speak of.

Sunday, I tweaked my back playing softball. Since that time, I've had a steady stream of Motrin flowing through my veins. Yesterday, I walked around like I had a crowbar shoved up some unspeakable place. Today, it's much better, and my walking style features a little bounce, not unlike a Muppet. Tomorrow, I hope to have my full saunter back.

We've purchased the paint needed for the nursery. Green on top, light blue wallpaper border about 3 feet off the floor, and light yellow below the border. Over the green walls, we'll paint the Seuss characters. In planning this ambitious room, I feel I've bitten off a bit more than I can comfortably chew, but I will press forward because I want the boy to be impressed with it, and I want his baby friends to be jealous of how much his parents rock.

I'm also pleased to announce that my grandmother has sent the Undaling his first Cubs hat. It was shipped directly from Chicago so that insures that it's properly cursed. Soon, we will suffer through the long baseball summers together and maybe he'll be blogging when he's 35 years old about how it's been 133 years since they won the World Series.

For those of you paying attention, WVU is preseason number one according to both Bruce Feldman and Pat Forde of ESPN. Yes, friends, this could be the year. Last year was spectacular, but we're on the verge of something even better. Get ready for more fun beginning September 2nd against (cough) Marshall.

TGITEOTW

TGITEOTW
That stands for "Thank God it's the end of the week". I think it has a nice ring to it. Maybe it will catch on as a way to quickly and easily celebrate Fridays using a simple acronym. Someday I envision a chain of restaurants named after my acronym, where the waitstaff dresses like candy-canes and they hang old household products on the walls. That way, if anyone spills honey-mustard on their cargo pants, they can grab a washboard from the wall and some club soda, and quickly get the stain out.

Pig Picture
I never posted the pig picture as promised. Pardon me.

To review, my friend bought a ranch. I like to call it "Hidden Valley". To kick off their ranch lifestyle, they are also now proud pot-bellied pig owners. This is Sam:

Where have they gone?

Is it just me, or have erasable pens been wiped off of the face of the planet? For a few years, they were huge. All you really needed to effectively start school was a giant Trapper Keeper and a 12 pack of those erasable pens. Where are they? Granted, I haven't walked through that aisle in a long time. Maybe they're still there and they just don't affect my life anymore, but I have a hunch they've vanished. Like Boy George, they were huge in the 80's, but nobody's really needed them since.

Early Retirement

Today is a sad day for me. I'm retiring my favorite pair of cargo pants. If you're a regular reader of my blog, you know that cargo pants are near and dear to my heart. I enjoy the soft feel of wrinkle-free khaki against my skin, and I love having extra pockets for whatever chattel I may decide to carry. Last time I wore them, I discovered some small holes forming just above the back pockets. Apparently, the precious cargo pants have endured one-too-many tumbles in the dryer.

I've heard people say before that mutts are the best dogs. Sometimes, the best pets are not the $700 purebred royalty dogs with papers; sometimes they're the pound puppies that you get for the cost of the first shots. How does this relate to my cargo pants? Well, these weren't a pair of $60 Dillards pants or even Old Navy. I picked these up at Costco for nineteen bucks about two years ago. Yep, I threw them right in the cart on top of the 200-pack of frozen taquitos and a 6-gallon jug of sour cream. I don't know that I'll ever find a pair again that fit me and serve me so well.

I have so many memories associated with these pants. They carried me through more than one rainy concert. Once, I found a five dollar bill in one of the many side pockets. I clearly remember a time when I walked past an older woman at work who I thought was a mute, when, out of nowhere she said "Hey, nice pants."

So today, I've chosen to proudly don them one last time, even with the visible hint of my boxer briefs. I'm proud to take them for one more spin around the workplace. Maybe at lunch, I'll spill one last dollop of ketchup on them, just for old times sake. When I get home, I'll slip them off and quietly place them in the outside garbage can. I might just light a candle and say a little prayer.

Goodbye, pants.

Defensive Driving

It was Friday evening and we were driving North on the Turnpike to spend the weekend in Daytona Beach with the Undaground-in-laws. Our trusty Toyota Camry was stocked with the usual roadtrip chattel: Peanut M&M's, Pringles, Starbucks, bottled water, Altoids, and our first child (the iPod). Inside the car it was a cool 74 degrees. The music was bouncy and fun. Our conversation was easy, easy like Sunday morning, even though it was still just Friday.

Outside, was a different story. Pounding rains chased us up the coast all evening. The roads were slick and nasty, and for much of the journey, my hands remained at 10 and 2. Cruise control was set on 80. I just had to brave the storm and steer the ship. My back was hurting because of the highway tension created by rainstorms mixed with presumably stupid drivers. The situation was exacerbated by that phenomenon that occurs when tractor trailers pass you in the driving rain, then slide in front of you, sending some bonus moisture your way for as long as you're stuck there.

Once we got past the congestion of Palm Beach County, the traffic eased up a little and so did my grip on the wheel. Before long, there were no other cars close in front of us, and none close behind. This was a much better situation, and my back was already feeling better as I enjoyed the mocha frappucino sitting in the cup holder. My wife and I were discussing something, and I began talking with my hands, relying on my knees to steer and the cruise control to keep me at 80.

Then, it happened.

It took me a second to process what I was seeing. There was a Volkswagen Beetle heading right for us at a 90-degree angle from a hill off the side of the Turnpike. Later, we figured that this car was probably getting ready to merge via the on-ramp, lost control and literally took a short cut down a hill and straight on to the Turnpike. My failure to act quickly here would result in a very powerful collision with this woman's driver-side door.

My wife screamed. The moment was surreal. I could see her out of the corner of my eye bracing herself. I pushed the brake down as hard as I could. It feels like I pushed it with both feet and all my body weight, like a leg press. I know that, consciously, instantly, I thought about my wife. And I thought about my child, nestled in the safety of the womb for a few more months. I knew it was my duty to protect them, and I can't even find the right words to illustrate how terrified I was for a brief moment.

Flashback

4th of July. Mrs. Undaground is driving us to a fireworks display. As she stops at a light more abruptly than usual, I look over and admit to her what I had just done:

"You know I just pressed my imaginary brake", I tell her.

"I do that with you all the time. Mostly when you're looking at me and talking with your hands, like this."

I guess she was right. I guess I do occassionally drive like I'm an actor in a movie, piloting a fake car in front of a green screen.

"You know, I'm one of the best drivers in the United States."

"Me too", she answered.

"Seriously, I could have been in Nascar had I chosen that path."

"Nascar, huh."

"Yep. And I don't even chew tobacco or own a confederate flag."

"What makes you think you're one of the best drivers in the world?"

"Not the world, just the United States. I've never been to Europe so I'm not sure how I'd handle the road there. You see, as a youth, I was an idiot sometimes. But me driving like an idiot for a couple years prepared me well for my adult years. Now, because of those crazy driving days, I've become an expert at avoiding serious accidents and defensive driving. It's like I use my powers for good now. It's like that "Catch me if you can" movie when Leonardo DiCaprio starts helping the government bust scam artists."

"Whatever", she said as she pulled forward after the light turned green.

End of Flashback

The Camry started skidding hard, but luckily stayed on a straight line. Meantime, the woman's Beetle was losing its back end again, and it now swerved so that she was facing us, head-on, on the Turnpike. Now, I had to hit the gas, and pull the wheel hard to the right. We drove up on the shoulder to avoid her and then back on the highway. Luckily, nobody was following closely enough to hit us from behind. As I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw a hubcap rolling down the turnpike.

Mrs. Undaground was now silent. I could feel my heart beating near my throat.

"I think I lost a hubcap", I said. Actually, it ended up being the Beetle's.

I pulled over on the side and got out. The woman in the Beetle had somehow turned her car in the right direction and pulled up behind us. She got out of her car. She was visibly shaken. I waited for Mrs. Undaground to get out of the car because I wanted this woman to see that she was pregnant, carrying the most precious of cargo.

"Are you OK? What happened", I asked the Beetle woman.

"I lost my back end and just started sliding. I had no control."

"You lost a hubcap back there."

"I can't believe that's the only thing. I'm so lucky."

"Definitely. Well, drive safe."

We got back in the car and sat for a moment. The bouncy, happy music was still playing on the iPod. I was now regretting the Starbucks. Turns out I didn't need anymore energy. My adrenaline was pumping. I could have wrestled a grizzly bear right then.

"You are the best driver in the world", said my wife.

"Thanks for following up. I think that conversation is officially over now. Just the United States, by the way."

We pulled back on to the Turnpike. For the next three hours, I drove like my trunk was filled with hundreds of egg cartons and several canisters of plutonium. For a few minutes, I couldn't help but see the "what if". Wow, is that scary.

My son is still officially prenatal. I've decided to stop calling him "unborn" because the word sounds creepy to me. Still prenatal and already I've experienced the feeling a parent gets when their child is in danger.

I'm sure that there will be countless incidents where we come out of it feeling extemely lucky. I hope that I can use my past mistakes to protect him. I hope he doesn't have to touch the stove to figure out that it's hot. I hope he doesn't have to drive like an idiot someday to learn how to avoid accidents. I hope he trusts me enough to take my word for it. I hope he doesn't become a Nascar driver and chew tobacco or hang a Confederate flag.

By the Numbers

1: near-death experience this weekend (more tomorrow)
3: licks to get to the center of a tootsie pop (according to some smart-ass owl)
6: contestants remaining on Hell's Kitchen
13: items on my to-do list today
98: years since Cubs have won the World Series
99: days til due date
150: posts on this blog as of today
4367: songs on our iPod

jOkEs

Two cannibals are eating a clown. One turns to the other, and says "Does this taste funny to you?"

***

Person 1: Knock knock.
Person 2: Who's there?
Person 1: Control freak. Now you say "control freak who?"

***

A bass drum and a cymbal fall out of a tree
ba dum dum CHING!

***

Q. how many surrealists does it take to screw in a lightbulb
A. fish

***

Q: What did the perverted frog say?
A: Rubbit.

***

Q: How many kids with ADD does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: LET'S RIDE BIKES!

***

Two muffins are in the oven, cooking.
One muffin turns to the other and says, "Man, it's getting really hot in here."
The other muffin says, "Holy Shit! A talking muffin!"

***

A guy's in a bar with his friends and he's totalled. He's three drinks past drunk and as he starts to leave, his vomits all over himself.

"Oh, damn," he slurs, "my wife doesn't like me hanging out with you guys, and now I'm sloppy drunk and stinking and filthy. She's gonna kill me."

"No, no, no." His buddy says and hands him a bill. "Put this five in your pocket and tell her one of us barfed on you and gave you money for drycleaning."

The drunk's eyes light up and thanks his friend before stumbling out the door towards his house.
He arrives at home to find his wife standing at the door, waiting for him.

"Good God," she exclaims, "I don't like you hanging around with those slobs as it is, and now you come home stinking drunk and covered with your own vomit."

"No, no, no, baby, here," the man says reaching for the five in his pocket and handing it to her, "one of the guys got sick on me and gave me 5 bucks to pay for the drycleaning."

"But this is a 10," the wife says, holding it up.

"Oh, right, yeah, he also shit my pants."

***

Three friends are sitting at a bar. At one point, an older gentleman walks up to them. Looking at the one in the middle, he screams: "I F***ED YOUR MOTHER!!!" Offended, but calm, the guy shoos the older man away and shrugs it off, and continues to keep drinking.

A few minutes later, the same older man walks up again and screams: "I F***ED YOUR MOM BUT GOOD!!!" Again, the guy shrugs it off and continues to drink with his buddies.

A third time, the older guy stumbles up and screams: "I F***ED YOUR MOM IN THE ***!!!"
Finally, the guy looks at the older man and says: "Dad, go home. You're drunk."

Guantanamera

Earworm
For some unexplainable reason, I can't get "Guantanamera" out of my head. This is a Latin song that we heard about 300 times on our honeymoon. I always thought they said "Guantanamera, tequila guantanamera", but apparently it's "guitera guantanemera". Anyway, it's very catchy and I guess I will have to make an international purchase on iTunes to get a version of the song. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you're probably a well-adjusted human being who doesn't wake up in the morning haunted by mariachi music.

Rock Star: Supernova
It's too early for me to form any real opinions. There are definitely a bunch of good rockers on this show. Too bad Chris from American Idol didn't choose this show instead. The Australian guy who sang "Knockin on Heavens Door" was good. The scary guy and scary girl (Rebel Yell and Lithium) were obviously well-received by the band. I need to hear more. Obviously, the guy who butchered "Roxanne" will have to really bring it tonight if he wants to survive.

#37 About Me
37. When I eat Chinese food, I take special care in planning my leftovers. I always save my eggroll for the second meal. My wife thinks this is slightly crazy; I believe it just demonstrates tremendous self-control.

TLC
We're still on a TLC kick. Lately, it's been "Bringing Baby Home". I've decided that all newborns look exactly the same in the first 36-hours after birth (except for the ones who are born with coneheads).

Dream
Last night I dreamed that somebody used my toothbrush. It was some drifter who was staying at our house. I knew that he used it because he left a lozenge resting on the bristles. It was gross. I guess it was his calling-card (at least he warned me). I've decided that my dream is telling me to be wary of drifters, especially those with good oral hygeine.

Programming Alert

Rockstar: Supernova premieres tonight at 8pm on CBS.

It will be discussed periodically on this blog throughout the season. If it's as good as Rockstar: INXS was, it's well worth watching.

Happy 5th

Movie Moment
The other night, Mrs. Undaground and I were watching Good Will Hunting on cable. There's one scene where Robin Williams and the math professor go to a bar to discuss Will Hunting's future. Robin Williams orders a couple of beers and "two sandwiches". He doesn't specify what kind of sandwiches; he puts that decision in the hands of the bartender. That struck me as odd.

Later in the scene, the bartender delivers the two sandwiches. I was surprised to see that one of them was on pumpernickel bread, the other was on white. The two men quickly get into an argument and the math professor storms out without touching his sandwich.

Sure, there was a legitimate disagreement going on about Will's future, but I think the professor might have stuck around to discuss it further if the sandwich he was given was more appetizing. I think he used the argument as an excuse to get the hell out of there before he had to eat a sandwich on pumpernickel bread. I know I would have.

Hot Dog Championship
Did anyone get to see the Nathan's hot dog eating championship? Awesome.

Kobayashi broke his own world record and ate 53 3/4 hot dogs in 12 minutes. For the past four or five years he's been blowing away the competition. Now, there's a young American named Chestnut who ate 52 hot dogs yesterday. I believe we're entering the golden era of the Nathan's hot dog eating championship. Don't miss next year's fourth of July contest. No doubt, these two guys will train vigorously now that the bar has been raised.

For me, the only problem was that I was eating my lunch while watching the telecast. It's not a good idea to eat casually while watching others eat competitively. First, it's a bit disgusting to watch these guys eat, especially once they get past 8 or 9 minutes. Also, you can't help but pick up the pace yourself, and workplace pizza is something that should be savored, not hurried.

Pregnancy Update
25 weeks today. Fifteen weeks left to go.

Are you keeping track of Americans born? Remember, that Gerber and the US census are expecting the 300 millionth American to be born in October. Now, it looks like the best estimate is October 17. That's one day before our due date. I think we can do this if the boy takes after his dad. I'm always on time, but usually early. I've spent more than a few uncomfortable moments being the first one at a party. I still haven't figured out what we will win, but it looks like Undaling may get his fifteen minutes of fame out of the way early.

Happy 4th

I hope those of you with the day off are enjoying it. I'm working today in order to continue to stockpile my "paternity leave".

Thanks for all your comments on blog boy. It brought a tear to my eye to see that 10 comments were made on one post. That's a record, I think. Rome wasn't built in a day. (America, however was built on July 4, 1776).

I have decided to go with Undaling. I liked a lot of the suggestions, and I will solicit your help again in a few short months for Mrs. Undaground's birthday present. Undagroundling was a close second. I looked up groundling in the dictionary just to be sure and it said, "a person with uncultivated tastes." My child hasn't been born yet, and we know he likes artichokes and the John Mayer Trio, so I had to skip that one. It seems he's already cultivating his tastes.

"Undaling" was suggested by my mother. Kudos, mom. You win. You have won a 7-day, six-night stay in South Florida, preferably in late October, for poolside banana-kahlua coladas and nap-relief for Undaground parents. Oh, and we don't actually have a guest room anymore, but we have really big Alice-in-Wonderland-style couches and a vellux blanket with your name on it.