when i left everything was calm. so it was snuggling hera, bean soup for dinner (yes, i do know how to cook!) and a movie. then bedtime.

phone rings, i jump up.

a comforting female voice asks if i am awake. i am. if i want to come to the delivery room. i want. take your time, you'll make it fine. i take. with really every bit of tranqulity i can muster - not laggy but not hasty either - i get ready, deliberately pick something to wear, whistle for hera and get going.

it's snowing. driving in this weather looks like the "enterprise" at warp 9. with a cool head i compute how to get there the fastest: v-max without being pulled over is limit plus 20km/h, which i strictly keep. after all, i wanna get to the delivery room, not the ditch.

i am convinced, i will get there, get into ER clothing and get started.

but how simple-minded men really are, is proven by the painted fly in the urinal...