Three days late

Well, the child is slow in coming out. We keep telling her the coast is clear, but I may have said "cheese it, it's the cops!" one too many times within the past nine months. Last night, while watching Queer Eye with Mom, Gaz was doing a little jitterbug and seemed to be protesting the cramped state of her present accommodations. I keep telling her that there's much more space on the other side of the womb. Keep your fingers crossed that she heard me and that an escape plan (preferably a speedy one that doesn't involve drugs or scalpels) is amenable to her.

For the past few days I've been gingerly going about a toned-down version of my daily life, saying all the time ". . . provided Gaz doesn't show up today. . ." Well, that approach just makes me irritated that she's not out yet, so now I'm back to making evening plans (not much outside the house, but I'm starting things I know I can't finish in one night now, like knitting a Mobius scarf) and generally looking at the world like Gaz is going to be in utero until her induction date of August 3rd.

One of these days there will actually be a little someone to comment on here. 'Til then, stay tuned.