Here I am on the day after Thanksgiving, at work, like a schmuck. Chris was off today and wanted to get up early again, like last year, and try to score some doorbusters at the sales, but ultimately decided against it when he couldn't get excited enough over any of the ads. Plus, you really have to be one of those wackos who starts lining up at five o'clock the night before to really snatch any of the stellar deals. And those people are crazy. Also, maybe it's just because they've been awake for 24 hours and have been up all night without the luxury of a toothbrush or bath tub, but, looking at the photos in the paper the next day of these people fighting over a widescreen TV, they're usually not an especially attractive bunch. You never see a slender, super-model type woman in a nice outfit clammering for the discount DVD player. I could expand from here, but now that I'm with child, I'm trying to be a nicer person.

So, my mother pleasantly surprised me yesterday by being thrilled to find out the news. She even threatened- I mean, offered- to move in with me after the baby is born for a bit to help out with things. I don't think that will be at all necessary, but still- a surprisingly thoughtful gesture. Who knew.

My mother has a new, boring nickname for Chris. CB. I told you it was boring. But she's obsessed with calling him that, and, now, in general, she's just plain obsessed with nicknames. Which leads me to a classic Nancy quote that I heard yesterday.

Black Wednesday. It's the night before Thanksgiving when young people go out, have some drinks with their friends, and call each other by nicknames.

I hope you think that's as hilarious as I do.