Not to belabor the point…
…but for some reason, I can't stop thinking about the goose. When I left work today, he was pecking a car. He's trying desperately to make a good, safe home for his mate and the potential goslings, but I think that deep down he's afraid he's inadequate to the task.
I recently met my geek friends for lunch in celebration of Rey(naldo)'s birthday. He gave me some advice about living with a pregnant wife. He stressed the importance of giving friends and family a specific due date:
"Curt, you can't just tell people 'the middle of November' or some stupid crap like that. You've gotta tell them a real date. Especially these old Spanish ladies—they don't understand or they don't remember what it was like being pregnant and they end up waiting till the last possible day to throw a shower so you're wife is huge and exhausted and wanting to be anywhere except a huge room full of elderly women yelling Spanish at each other and it's just miserable."
MCF broke the uncomfortable silence that followed by observing, "I'm not sure, but I think you might be projecting your own experience onto Curt."
I don't know why I thought of that just now.
