the snot cork goes awol

mrs nice guy woke me early this morning with five of the most terrifying words i have ever heard. like an angel, i slept the dreamless sleep of the just ... and the profoundly stupid, at peace with the world and my place in it. but then -- then! -- mrs nice guy waddles into the boudoir and leans over me. she blows gingerly into my ear. i awake blinkingly. she has a funny look on her face. she says: "baby ... i lost my mucus plug."

"WHAT?" i reply, instantly awake, adrenaline pumping wildly into my bloodshot eyes. "where did you last see it? you need that! retrace your steps!"

turns out she last saw it in the john, right before she flushed. do you know how hard it is to snake a mucus plug out of a toilet and feverishly try to reapply it to your wife? DO YOU? it's very, very hard.

so, basically, it's on. baby is imminent. minutes or hours away. or days. i don't know. this is all very confusing. i am so, so cold ... naked, quivering ... hold me.