On winning the lottery

If you received $10,000,000 tomorrow, would you continue to work?

“Good one since someone got the powerball top price.”

Yes, I would continue to work.

In grad school, A classmate who would precede a lot of things with, “If I won the lottery…”

Finally I got sick of it and said, “Why the hell do you want someone to give you money you didn’t earn?” I still feel that way.

Also in grad school, the the lottery reached a huge sum (at the time). My advisor sat down, and as an exercise computed there was a positive ROI to buying a ticket.

Deciding that he it would be a crime against his discipline (theoretical condensed matter physics, which is mostly a lot of statistics) to ignore this fact, he went out of the office, next door to the local gas station to buy a lottery ticket. When he got there, in front of him was a colleague, a statistical physics professor, and soon behind him came another colleague. (I came in there later but it was to get a refill on my 64oz Bigfoot).

My uncle Francis, whom my son is named after, was also a theoretical condensed matter physicist. Every time we met up at the American Physical Society March meeting, The first thing out of his mouth was when and how we were going to get a ride to the closest riverboat blackjack casinos. There was even a rumor that we never got invited back to Las Vegas after 1986 — all those tables full of statistical physicists refusing alcohol and doing the minimum bet for hours until, suddenly, the shoe was in their favor and they all switched their bets at once, but separately.

Ironically, it looks like Casino memory is just under 40 years. They will learn the error of their ways next year. If only Francis were alive, I’m sure he’d come out of retirement to attend and make a few bucks at blackjack with me.

A baby’s sense of order

This morning, Benjamin and I had to get a blood test. I guess this makes us blood brothers.

Ready to go out

It’s been about 8 years since my last test. Now that Benjamin is one year old, his pediatrician wants him tested for lead as a precaution since housing in San Francisco can date back to when paint and pipes had lead.

When getting him ready for the visit, I got him dressed. He started repeating “sosh” when I was putting on his socks. I mistakenly thought the lab could get a sample from his foot, so I skipped putting on his shoes.

He saw me pick up his sandals, and ran at me yelling “shoosh!” But when I dropped them in his diaper bag, he wasn’t having it at all. He associates his “shoosh” with going out, thought this meant I was leaving without him, and started crying.

It took all of five seconds, but that was five seconds too long for my son.

Continue reading about adventures in blood testing after the jump

An ass-kicking

One year ago today:

Marie is starting her third trimester. Late last night, she started to spoon me. "Wait, where is your body pillow?" I asked.

"Right now, you are," she mumbled as she tried to fall back asleep.

"Oh!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, the baby is kicking. Did you feel that?"

"Oh! there it is again… and again!"

"He’s really active right now."

"Yeah, I’m can feel it on my butt cheek. Our son is literally kicking my ass!"

“Gold” medal parenting

She says to me at 1 AM: “I’m so glad I sucked the snot out of our son’s nose… it wasn’t really gross at all.”

This was a short while after she showed me his boogies in the snot sucker with far more pride than when she showed me her finisher’s medal after her first triathlon.

Apparently, the sucker has a filter in it… or something.

Rollin’ with his homies

By the afternoon, with the air quality getting a little better, M— was beyond tired, so Benjamin took took me in his ride, a Chicco KeyFit 30 Caddy, “cruisin’ for some chicks” (his words, of course, not mine). We were going stir-crazy at home anyway.

Because the warm weather, he wanted to just buckle up and jet and show his rockin’ bod he and mommy have been working on for the last 10 months, but M— thought the seat restraints would chafe his new baby skin and selected a dinosaur shirt from Auntie Nora that all the honey babies in his life (Mommy) thought made him look cute. While it did cover up his awesome guns, he finally relented, and we were off to give M— some much needed rest for a couple hours

We walked through the park, and, on the way back, he thought mommy would like some food to keep her milk all nice and yummy so we picked up some egg bread, spam musubi, and Garlic Noodle w/Pan Seared Prawn on the trip home. He even survived his first diaper change in the field (though, mommy was right: I should have packed more wipes and diapers in the Pronto Changing Station).

Unfortunately, other than a few comments about how cute he was, he didn’t get to pick up any chicks. I thought it meant I failed as a wingman, but Benjamin blames the ‘rona.

Fuck Trump.

Here is a selfie of just him and the boys.

A keeper

Clara Health has asked Checkr to run your background check

One of our current clients requested that we do background checks on individuals. Being on maternity/paternity leave, I’d normally ignore it until later, but Checkr is quite persistent when you ignore them, so I got it off my queue before what-pathetic-excuse-counts-for-sleep last night.

This morning:

I had to announce my relief to the company.

Me: Got my background check back. Relieved to find out I’m not a sex offender anywhere.

J—: im happy for you

Me: I’m relieved too! Forwarded it to M—. She mentioned she knows the CEO of Checkr from a mobile startup, and then said, without skipping a beat, “Okay, baby, we can keep daddy around now that we know he checks out.”

(This is probably revenge for all the times I look at my son and declare to M—, “I guess I think we’ll keep him.”)

Rocky moments in parenting

Anyone else do the beginning Rocky training montage before changing an especially poopy diaper, or is it just me?

I do it right after I pop open the wet wipes and ready a fresh diaper, but before I start changing. M— always laughs when she sees the air punches.

If I haven’t been peed on and he isn’t crying by the end of it, I totally do the top top-of-the-Philadelphia-Museum-of-Art-steps thing.

Otherwise, I’m cuddling and comforting him. I totally relate to the unfunness of having cold water touch your pee pee area.