Oh baby (he said, not referring to Sheila Copps)

Be afraid, be very afraid. Havril has replicated.

Round about a fortnight ago, my wife and I were given the best little package you can get that won't bring you before a Commons Committee -- our first child, a beautiful baby boy. To protect his identity, let's call him "Karlheinz", and let's say he weighed between two and 18 pounds.

And to answer the question you must be asking, why yes, I am the father. I mean, my wife says so, and the boy does have my testicles. Now, the rest of him looks oddly like Joe Clark, but I'm told that's a natural stage of child development.

To answer another question you might be asking, no, fatherhood will not change the frequency of my blogging. Thankfully, I am inexplicably proficient at one-handed typing, so blogging whilst soothing baby should be a breeze. So, like clockwork, I will continue to post every two to 18 weeks, NHL playoffs excepted.

But the content of my posts may change. I mean, how could it not? Being a father is changing my whole outlook on life.

For example, the prospect, however remote, that Stephen Harper might eat babies was mildly concerning when they were babies in the abstract. But it's downright terrifying now that it's my baby that's at risk. In 2008, look for more posts against federal infantavorism.

And I used to mock Harper's piddly $100 per month Universal Childcare Benefit. But now I see the value of that monthly infusion of cash in subsidizing my increased costs of pay-per-view movies now that I am up at all hours attending to a crying baby. Mind you, the benefit could be higher. At $12.99 a pop, a measly 100 loonies won't even get me through Comely Coeds 9. In the new year, look for more posts advocating for a generous universal porn top-up for new parents.

My life right now is pretty much about two things: one, trying to attach meaning to incessant incoherent bellowing; and, two, poo -- endless streams of foul, runny poo. Come January, watch for more posts about speeches by federal Environment Minister John Baird.

Anyway, I have to run. Little Karlheinz is stirring.
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And maybe a title for this post too?

Okay, ya'll. Once I take care of a few errands around the homestead (shoveling snow, dealing with the cat's latest 'cling-on' issue, ordering a bunch of Ottawonk thongs for stocking stuffers) I'm going to get right back to the blogging thing.

To help me with that (the blogging, but would it hurt you to pick up a kitty turd or two?)... I was thinking maybe y'all could go all Aught-six and send me some title suggestions for new posts.

Do it now, or you'll never see the rest of that $500,000.

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