Super Bowl XLII.5

I crossed paths with a coworker this past week who apparently had the NFL Draft on his mind. He had one question for me. He wanted to know if I would watch both days of the NFL Draft. The question came out of nowhere, but in contemplating my reply I realized there are two types of people in this world--those people who watch the first day of the draft and those who watch the first and second day of the draft.

Notice my choice of words. I said people, not fan. There are two types of people.

• People who love Neil Diamond and people who don't.
• People who eat sushi and people who don't.
• People who shave their toes and people who don't.
• And people who watch the first and second day of the draft and people who just watch the first.

Seriously. It's understood that everyone watches the draft. It's like Super Bowl XLII.5. It's the day, make that weekend, when every team gets to start over. Everyone is undefeated (except for the Raiders, it's a given that they'll loose at least 12 games every year). Everyone gets to restock their team with fresh (all be it unproven) talent. There is hope for even the worst teams.

So what type of person am I? Am I a first day only kinda guy or a first and second day guy? Does recording it on DVR count?

Is it hot in here or...?

Watched my first episode (half episode actually) of American Idol in a long time. Just a few observations: Randy's still hearing "pitchy things", Paula's still giving everyone standing ovations and Simon still hasn't heard his "favorite performance." Guess I haven't missed much.

In other TV news, Hell's Kitchen has my wife and me drawn in for some unknown reason. We've watched every episode this season and have yet to see any of the potential executive chefs prepare anything to Chef Ramsey's liking. Why do we continue to tune it? Every other word out of Ramsey's mouth is bleeped and blurred. Do we enjoy watching failure? I know it's not for the culinary inspiration. I think I know why we watch. It's for the good, old fashioned, Englishman meltdowns. I think watching everything go so wrong for one man makes our lives look so very orderly and optimistic. Maybe we're cheering against Chef Ramsey. Who knows. See you next week in Hell's Kitchen.

Is Everybody Okay?

Earthquakes rocked Louisville today!

At 5:37 a.m. an earthquake ripped through the Midwest leaving the area riddled with gaping chasms and crumbled structures. Homes were split in two, children were separated from their parents, beloved pets were separated from their chew toys. And no one saw it coming.

The quake registered 5.2 on the Richter Scale. 5.2! That's like twice as bad as a 2.6!

And I, being the protector of my family, guided them through the disaster by reassuring them of their safety. How did I do this, you ask? By remaining sound asleep through the whole ordeal.

My wife, the California native, woke up, realized we must have just had an earthquake, listened to see if Ethan was crying and quickly returned fast asleep. Thanks for your concern, honey.

Honey, have you seen my raincoat?

The boy blew chunks on me. Twice. Today.

He woke up last night after throwing up all over himself and his bed. So the wife and I gave him a quick bath and it was back to bed. This morning I got him up and fed him first thing as I always do. Eight ounces of Similac's finest. My wife was a bit troubled by some green stuff on his pajamas, but I dismissed it as snot. Sounded like a good explanation as I was burping my now fully loaded four-month-old.

**BURRRPPP!**

"Oh, good one!"

**YAACCKK!**

There's nothing like a warm shower of half-digested formula to wake you up in the morning. The poor kid lost his breakfast all over his dad and the couch we were seated on.

After a quick consult with the doctor we decided he should stay home. "If he gets diarrhea you'll want to make sure he stays hydrated," she warned. Check.

So I stayed home with the boy to help him ride this thing out. We proceeded with his next feeding as planned. I noticed as we sat there that Ethan was expelling some rather loose waste from his hind parts. I thought to myself, "We might have a problem on our hands." Four ounces later...

**YAACCKK!**

He did it again. With his back to my belly he threw up everything he just consumed. I promptly cleaned him up and turned him around to have a look at his face. And wouldn't you know it... all smiles. The kid was has happy as could be. Probably 'cause he knew he wouldn't be the one who had to change his diaper.

It's amazing how quickly you become comfortable dealing with bodily fluids when you're a dad. I haven't worn the hazmat suit in months.