Update From Dave

Due Date has passed without incident, except a few other incidents:

• Somehow our indoor cat got locked out of the house all day and survived, most likely macking on the lady kittens in the neighborhood. Like father, like son.
• Annalise continued her No Nap Strike, requiring two different "Peanubuttahbreahhhhs" (that's a peanut butter sandwich to those not fluent in Annaliseish) and several Elmo videos on my iPhone to put her to sleep tonight (a task I have now heroically assumed). Still, she screamed at the door until her mother awoke from her slumber in the other room and "resuced" her. Her screams impressively pierced through a full-volume sound machine, two doors, a high-velocity fan and her mother's sleep-deprived delirium to initiate the Hasselhoffian rescue from her dreaded paternal bedroom captor. She is now sleeping soundly in our recently-built-by-loving-husband-and-father Ikea bed.
• Jessica completed her review of Bachelor Pad, lengthening her streak of Bachelor-themed-show-watching to infinity. This one somehow involved Bachelor and Bachelorette retreads competing for cash and contracting a number of unspeakable diseases in the process, I'm sure. For instance, someone named Kasey (with a K) apparently came down with a nasty case of Vienna. Fortunately the show is now over and Mondays are DVR-free.
• I've been typing for 12 minutes -- still no baby.
• Being the Husband of the Century that I am, I made a special trip to the store this evening for "Cookies and Cream ice cream and Magic Shell topping" for an unspecified severely pregnant woman currently on the premises. Since I am a crazily spontaneous person, I opted to shop at Target's new grocery section instead of the traditional Fred Meyer we usually get our groceries at. Their freezer aisle lights are motion-activated, which made it feel like they opened the store up just for me to shop. I kind of liked it.
• Annalise has Athlete's Foot. Truth be told, it's rather unsightly but is rapidly improving. I used to get it pretty bad during the summers when I was a kid, so she must have inherited my susceptability to it (along with, according to Jessica, my butt and thighs. Probably TMI, but hey -- just wait until I describe the delivery).

That's all for now -- more to come from Fuhrimanville when things start moving and "Ice Cream" (as Annalise calls the new baby) is on her way.