So, Superman Steve and the V.P. have not had their baby……still! Steve did not do a show at the Rogue, because the baby was due, and we were just sure that the baby would arrive during the Rogue. Of course, some thought a Rogue stage birth could be very avant-garde….but the V.P. shot that idea down.
I hate waiting for this baby. And I hate not knowing whether the baby is a boy or a girl. The worst part of “not knowing” is knowing that someone actually knows – and it’s not the parents OR me – only their doctor. Geez, worse than Christmas!
But I’m hoping for a girl. Why? Well, for one thing, the clothes are cuter. But mostly,
--well, mostly because of the penis thing.
“Penis thing?” you ask, “what penis thing?”
That whole “penis as a WMD” thing.

Boys begin wielding their penis as a weapon from birth.

And I am so not joking. Any parent/babysitter/older sibling that has ever changed a baby boy’s diaper can attest to this truth: if you do not cover that weapon with something (hand, towel, wipe, etc) before the air hits it, it will unleash a deadly yellow liquid –aimed with amazing accuracy--directly towards your face.
And the baby grows…..into a toddler and little boy. A little boy just like my little brother, Jason. Let me tell you about Jason:
I come from a family of six kids: JohnJeffJayneJoanneJulieJason. Oh, and Mom and Dad: JayandJanet. What can I say…
Anyway, all the way at the end of the line – JohnJeffJayneJoanneJulie – Jason – the youngest. Now, with six kids, bathtime was crazy. Obviously, there was no way, time or money wise, for six kids to get to take individual baths – so we usually had to “co-bathe.” The unwritten rule was that the oldest got to sit in the front of the tub – where the freshest, hottest, bestest (?) water was. So……
One evening, 10-year-old me and 3-year-old Jason were in the tub. Jason said, “I wanna sit in front.”
“No, I’m the oldest! I get the front.”
“Please…..”
“No!”
“If you don’t let me, I’ll pee on you.”
“No you won’t. Besides, I’m the oldest. I get to --- AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”
Yup. My three-year-old brother had stood up…..and peed on me. Weapon of Mass Destruction deployed on innocent civilian in a water environment. I lept from the toxic tub and went screaming – naked – down the hall and into the kitchen, screaming, “Jason peed on me! Grodie to the max!”
From then on, I refused to use the “peepee tub”, I insisted on showers, and I refused to bathe with anyone else.
I don’t think I need to go on with further proof of the Penis as a WMD.