The Wait....

   It is now 9:36 PM as I start writing this. At 9:36 AM I had been waiting in the hospital for nearly two hours. I had high expectations. Those expectations were dashed....well, 12 hours later, no later. We are still sitting here, waiting, wondering why our little baby boy won't pop out and say "Hello World." Or at least "Waaaa, waaa......"
   I'm sitting here wondering what else I could do? I have already offered the baby half of my son's toys, then all of his toys, then all of my toys....and yet nothing. I have tried to lure him out with a dollar bill, but apparently he knows I only have a dbit card and thus, can't even get something from the vending machines. I've tried telling him to go toward the light, but apparently the though of being cold, naked, and your eyes being blinded by a light you've never seen, nor imagined is more overpowering than some man he's never seen.
    We've sat all day, hoping, pleading for the child to exit with our perfect plan of delivery and recovering while watching House on Fox, yet that too was vanquished when he decided to...yep, stay inside. It has a faint resemblance to the scene in Happy Gilmore when Happy wants the ball to go in the hole--it's home. Inversely, we want it to come out of the hole.
     We've just been informed the doctor has returned, I'm sure from watching a triple feature movie, to check on us. Yet it seems that she could leave for the night, grab a latte' in the morning, catch an early show and still be back before he decided to jump out.
     My wife is in a state of on-again-off-again sleep, wishing the baby would pop out, pop out like pop tarts do from a toaster. We've talked to him, asked him, demanded from him, pleaded with him, and after all this, one thought comes to my mind: Why won't they let her jump on a trampoline. I swear I saw it work on Youtube.