Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Moosh Musings

Mysteries of baby T gather momentum with each day that mama T (and her belly) inch closer to delivery. Outwardly and inwardly, we and our loved ones have many questions about our future family addition.

Of course, our paramount concern is for the baby's health and mama's safety. When our thoughts turn less serious, the most common speculation is if we are having a boy or a girl.

Selfishly and perhaps inevitably, I wonder ... what about the baby will be like me? Will my genes give the baby a big forehead and a gap in the front teeth? Will he/she like baseball, memorizing world capitals, and Scrabble?

Or will she/he be more like her mom? Will her genes give the baby pretty, three-ring eyes and curly hair? Will she/he like gymnastics, "So You Think You Can Dance?", and facebook?

Only time will tell.

One tendency that I strongly hope does not pass by my DNA is a phenomenon that I encounter almost daily in my life. It's something that I call "moosh." Perhaps you have experienced it yourself.

For example, you walk into Dunkins for a medium hot regular and have a choice of two lines. One line has 5 people, the other has 2. Naturally, you choose the 2. The customer at the front of your line receives her coffee and leaves the line. Quietly, you chuckle at the 5th person in the other line because you know he'll still be standing there when you leave with your coffee in hand. You wait patiently and suddenly overhear the customer in front of you.

He's reading off of a list written on the back of a pizza box. Still wearing a hard hat and his Carhart overalls, you realize it's the construction rookie with the entire crew's 9 a.m. coffee break order. Frantically, your eyes dart to the other line and it's down to 3. Do I stay or go? You freeze hoping that the cashier is a pro who can bang out 10 coffees in 60 seconds. Peering your head around the carpenter's shoulder, you see a sticker above the cashier's name tag that reads "I'm in training." Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! She hasn't even started microwaving the croissanwiches yet.

Not only has the 5th customer come and gone in the other line by the time you announce your order in .79 seconds to the new hire, the coffee maker almost definitely requires a filter change, or they're waiting for the manager because the register's out of ones. You've been mooshed.

Line moosh comes in many other forms: stop and go traffic (I always choose the wrong lane), airport security lines (I never see the family with 3 kids ahead of me until it's too late), grocery store lines (especially the self-service checkout - avoid this at all costs!), bank teller lines (I'm sure a hold-up is just around the corner), etc.

As for baby T, I hope for his/her sake that the moosh was a recessive gene that he/she does not inherit. I guess we'll find out when we pick an exit lane at the hospital's parking garage...

Thursday, December 4, 2008

A Dreaded Question

"What are the birds and the bees?" No, I'm not scared to answer that one. Many years of procrastination lie between now and then - plus, one of baby T's friends' parents are likely to leave their Internet unprotected so that should probably get me off the hook.

"Can I shave my legs?" Whether we have a girl or a boy, I'll likely refer baby T to mama T if confronted with that question. Then, I'll look to make sure there's some Jameson in the liquor cabinet.

"How many Super Bowls have the Jets won in your lifetime?" I hope the answer to that question is at least one by the time baby T is watching football and wearing green with me on Sundays. While I suspect the answer to that question will likely be zero, it doesn't make me nervous. Instead, I kind of foresee the following exchange:

Baby T: How did you get mom to go out with you?

Daddio: Well, baby T, I was at Uncle Noonan's 30th birthday party and I was dressed like Judge Smails from Caddyshack.

Baby T: What's Caddyshack?

Daddio: It's an awesome movie. Anyway, mom came to the party late because she was working as a bartender back then. I missed the chance to speak with her because Uncle Randy was mowing my lawn.

Baby T: What's mowing your lawn mean?

Daddio: Nevermind. Then, I saw that she was leaving to go. So, I ran outside after her. When I got outside the Seapoint, mom was getting into her car.

Baby T: Where's the Seapoint?

Daddio: It's in Southie where the 3 of us lived before we moved into the house. Anyway, we're standing in the parking lot and it was beginning to rain. I thought it was a sign. We started talking and I was feeling a good vibe so I decided to ask her out. She reached into the car to write down her number on a piece of paper, but then she stopped and said that she had a date the next morning. Brunch, actually. And then she said that she didn't feel comfortable dating more than one person at the same time.

Baby T: Bummer. That's awkward.

Daddio: Agreed, although it got much more awkward afterwards when I leaned in and tried to kiss her. She jolted her head back as I moved in lips first. I think she may have even gasped and said something like "What are you doing!?" I thought she was giving me the signal! I mean, she just had this great smile that made her eyes twinkle at me and ...

Baby T: (stunned) (shaking his/her head in disbelief) Why are your answers to simple questions so long-winded?

Daddio: (shrugging) Sorry, kiddo. Want to see if the Jet game is on? I think mom's done watching her Gossip Girl repeats.

Baby T: I hate that show.

Daddio: That's my boy/girl!

Advice from my cousin Sean

Thought you might like to look into the crystal ball and grab a glimpse of what lies ahead. I wake up every morning and come home every evening waiting to meet the 23 month old love of my life. She runs to the door and sings one of her twenty-five understandable words….”daddy!” I pick her up and give her a hulk hug and a huge kiss hello. She guides me into my room to make sure I take the tie off and put my business clothes in a safe place. We return to the kitchen for dinner with a plain white t shirt and the same pair of under armour shorts. Madison takes her seat and eats with a fork like an angel. Approximately 7 minutes into her meal, she gives mom and dad a great big smile, grabs her plate and flings it across the dining room. Madison gets a time out, mom and dad open a bottle of wine and the games begin….