When I was younger I was blessed with a fast metabolism that kept me skinny for the first 28 years of my life, but as I got closer to 30 I found that I was starting to gain weight. At one point during Alex's treatment I actually came close to the 200 pound mark, which doesn't sound too bad except I'm not that tall (5' 9 1/2") and most of the weight was in my gut. Since then I've managed to keep my weight down by eating better and exercising. My biggest problem is that I hate to exercise. In my mind there is nothing more mind numbingly boring than spending an hour or two on some stationary machine running, rowing or lifting in place. Luckily this summer I discovered Kayaking, which quickly became my favorite source of exercise. Of course right now it's cold outside, the water is freezing and there are white caps on the Sound, so I really haven't kayaked that much lately. Right now my favorite exercise is walking from the bedroom to my office.

When I was younger my favorite form of exercise (aside from the obvious - wink wink nudge nudge know what I mean!) was tennis. Now at this point you're probably thinking that this whole post is going to be about my exercise regime or even worse my sex life! Nope it's just a clever ruse to lead you into the story of how I almost died playing tennis. Okay maybe not died, but it was almost a fate worse than death!

Back in college I was playing doubles with my best friend and two girls, one of which I had a major crush on. It was a relatively friendly match until near the end when my partner hit a little floater from the baseline that just barely cleared the net. That's when my best friend, who I'd known since I was 5 years old, who was like a brother to me, wound up an overhead smash and proceeded to hit the ball as hard as he could at (how can I put this delicately?) the family jewels. And for probably the only time in his life his aim was true! I went down like I'd been shot. I think for a moment I actually felt my testicles in my throat. My best friend's response? He started laughing hysterically at the top of his lungs. Now my partner didn't see where the ball had hit, so she came up to me and asked if I was okay. My only response was "Honey, I think we're going to have to adopt."

P.S. I actually played tennis with my friend after that, but from that point on I wore a cup on the court!

So my wife has decided that the one thing I need this Christmas is Bert Boxers. Personally I'd settle for an XBox 360, but I've got a sneaking suspicion I'm going to wake up Christmas morning to find these in my stocking, which is disturbing on so many levels. There's the whole Bert & Ernie and the forbidden love that dare not say its name (not that there's anything wrong with that!), which leads me to wonder if Ernie is on the back of these boxers. But the thing that concerns me the most is this. If I'm ever in an accident and they have to cut my clothes off of me, do I really want everyone to see that I'm wearing "Talk Nerdy to Me" boxers? I mean this is right up there with being a kid (or adult) and having them find out you're wearing underwear with your name stitched into it. I think I'd be scarred for life!

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Every time I see that one Ford "Bold Moves" commercial where the woman pays for the dry cleaning of the good looking stranger in the car behind her, I think the same thing. Obviously the moral of the commercial is that serial killers don't get their clothes dry cleaned. Only nice people get their clothes dry cleaned!

I'm planning to someday write a book called "Things to Embarass My Kids With When They Become Teenagers". Chaper 1 will be "The Beast with One Back". So right now you're probably thinking to yourself - "what the hell is this guy talking about". Well I'll tell you...

My almost 4 year old son Nick has this embarassing habit of humping the floor or furniture whenever he gets a chance. Last night he actually fell asleep while violating the ottoman in my office, which is wrong on so many levels! He started doing this a couple years ago and at the time everyone we spoke with told us he'd grow out of the behavior eventually. Well that hasn't happened yet, but at least he's no longer doing it in public. (Imagine being in a crowded restaurant and looking down to see your 2 year old son on the floor doing the...well you know what he was doing!) Still this behavior is seriously freaking out my wife Andrea, who didn't have any brothers and thus has little experience with the male fascination with our own penises. At this point she's ready to stick him in a metal cup (i.e. athletic supporter) to stop the madness!

Now when he's not humping the floor, Nick has one other idiosyncrasy, he's constantly adjusting himself in public. The latest episode happened last week when we were having dinner with my wife's parents. We decided to sit the kids at their own booth, so we could enjoy chatting with other adults without interuption. Good idea in theory, bad idea in practice. About 20 minutes into dinner we looked over and saw that Nick had lifted his shirt up and stuck his hand down his pants. At this point we were the only ones who had noticed this, so Andrea quietly told Nick to put down his shirt and get his hands out of his pants. Of course Nick responded by screaming over and over again at the top of his lungs:

"But my peepee not's down!"

...which of course got the attention of the rest of the restaurant! Andrea responded by burying her head in her hands on the table, while the entire restaurant laughed, so it was left to me to go over and shield Nick so he could adjust himself away from the prying eyes of the public. Oh the joys of parenthood!