My Addled Brain

As previously Twittered, we’re having a boy. The name is decided upon: Maxwell Damon, because our child will be kick-ass, and as such, requires a name to equal his supreme awesomeness. In this, I believe we have succeeded.

Little Max was ready for his sonogram close-up yesterday, shakin’ it (but not quite breakin’ it) for his mother, his aunt, his cousin Jack, and myself, which leads us to believe that not only will he lead the simian revolution when he comes of age, he will also succeed Michael Flatley as Lord of the Dance and lead us into a new era of disco-pop dance fever. However, he will not wear polyester while doing so. Sorry, man-made fabrics manufacturers.

We’ve got some pictures (incuding one with a mouse pointer directing attention to his maleness, which I’m sure is something involved in about 75% of my nightmares), but I currently have no way to scan them since my fabulous all-in-one printer/scanner/copier/stapler/geiger counter/defibrillator/coffee maker thought it would be a fantastic idea to clog an ink port, thus completely disabling every other device on it, including ones not related to printing. HP, you truly are one of the world’s great evils.