1) Rise and shine before 8 a.m. (Say it isn't so, Joe)
2) Drive to the valley to the Studio City Farmer's Market to ride the ponies, jump in the bouncy house, twirl on the oh so dangerous electric wooden swing set built before the Depression
3) Hop on the 101 and drive to Rosemead (1/2 hour away with no traffic) to have Dim Sum with Otto's God Daddy and Lovely Lady Honorary God Mommy Girlfriend
4) Drive back home and watch as Otto refused to nap
5) Pack up the gang and go hiking in the canyons with 40 pounds of love on my back
6) Come home and make dinner for Otto
8) Read to Otto
9) Put Otto to bed with my horrible rendition of "Ba Ba Back Sheep"
10) Shower off the grime
11) Set the table for the awesome dinner Dave made for us
12) Watch "Milk" on DVD
13) Write this
14) Go to bed
In the good old days it would have been incomprehensible for me to have completed three of these tasks in a month. No exaggeration. It would have taken me four days to watch Sean Penn be queeny and fabulous and another four to write a paragraph about it. I believe from my terrible, yet often exact memory that I was sloth like and fruitless in all my labors. I would rise by noon, eat a large breakfast of greasy hunks of meat products and lounge around until 2, dress and scour the television for artistic inspiration, hike for an hour and a half and come home wiped out. Days would go by with me doing nothing of consequence and then I would wonder why I felt like I was swimming in a deep sea of black Play-Doh and cursing my life choices. Here's to parenthood!