Well... I'm trying to avoid the usual gushing pronouncements of early (sleepless) fatherhood, but it's difficult. "Camilladilla" Lombard, (aka: "the fishwife"), after a grueling 13 hour labor in which she heroically refused any and all pain killers, gave birth, naturally, to a 9.1 pound lunker, who will heretofore answer to the name of Django Ray Lombard.
Yes, the "D" is silent.
I will state this for the record: the lad has a pair of lungs on him that could really only be matched by his tuba blowin, sea chanty singin', fish tale spinnin' old man. His feet and hands make me think I oughta hire him out as a stevedore next week. Definitely got some of the fishwife's Viking blood in him, that's for sure. I haven't had a happier sleepless three days in all my life. And although I could wax poetic on the godlike endurance, courage and fortitude of my little fishwife. And the mind bending experience of meeting this adorable creature that's been holed-up inside her for 9 months, I will refrain.
Poseidon only knows when I will be back on or near the water. And frankly, I don't care.
Enjoying a wonderful little bubble with the fishwife and pollywog right now.
Okay... what else... uh oh... sounds like I'm back on diaper duty!
Hope a few of you got in on all those sardines that were down in Princeton Harbor last week.
OK gotta scram.