Today we went on a tour of the hospital where the baby will be delivered in mid-August. Many other couples were in attendance as well as we paraded around the hospital. That part wasn’t my concern so much as the ride there. I paid very close attention to the route to the hospital and then which entrance to take and which awning to drive up to and which doors to go in. Likely my duty will be to navigate the trusty Impala to the hospital, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to get stuck in traffic or take a wrong turn.
It shouldn’t be a difficult drive under any circumstance; traffic is rarely an issue heading west-bound on Parmer Lane. It took only 7 minutes, 30 seconds to get there, and that took into account a couple of mis-steps. I feel like I can shave the drive time down to about 6:20 without speeding much. I just don’t want to run into a situation like this one where I’m speeding and then the cops stop me and we’re critically delayed. Or a situation like where Mom and Dad had to stop and deliver Jordan at a stranger’s house en route to the hospital.
In other news, Baxter sent me out to pick up some Mother’s Day gifts for his human mother, Lauren. I returned home with some stargazer lilies and two pints of Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter Cup ice cream. That darned mutt is always thinking of others! Speaking of which, it is Baxter’s third birthday tomorrow, at which point I’ve decided I’ll discontinue the use of Mr. Baby, one of my favorite nicknames for him.
To celebrate a little early, I gave Baxter permission to eat straight from his food bin this morning. A beagle like Roscoe may have finished the whole thing, but Baxter doesn’t like his dry food enough to put a dent in it.