…is my newborn file cabinet.
She is a whopping 150 lbs, robust and healthy which is all one can hope for, right?
She ain’t much to look but I’m sure she’ll get cuter when she gets older. Please don’t judge.
She was delivered yesterday swaddled in cardboard and plastic, nailed to a little pallet. The delivery guys stripped her of her cocoon in my driveway (a little rough, in my opinion, given her fragile state and all).
In the middle of the blessed event, one of the guys got a phone call. He took it which I thought it was pretty rude because this was…you know…a big moment for me.
Thirty minutes passed. A lifetime for me! I’d waited for weeks for her arrival and I wanted to be alone with her…to bond. I bought pendaflex folders!
I finally asked how long this was going to take.
Dr. Phone Call glared at me, nodded in the general direction of his assistant.
Damn it if he didn’t haul my little bundle of joy all the way up a gnarly flight of stairs with that phone pinched between his shoulder and his ear jabbering away to God knows who.
I had to say I was impressed.