And Yet Skinnier

This week's poundage droppage wasn't inspired by Rhythmball so much as the gastrointestinal virus that Baby picked up, which 12 hours into his recovery Monstro and I inherited; yesterday was nothing but tag-team baby care and hot-racking the bed (a military term I learned from my old buddy Jim, who was in the Marines).

Monstro was setting the alarm last night. "Weird."

"What's weird?"

"The alarm is set for 8:12, and right now, it's 8:12."

It didn't at the time occur to me that 51 years ago, we'd have to wait another minute.