M is for "Motherhood"

I attended a large Northeastern university for college, which boasted a magical place known as "M Street." At the time, the "M" is this two-block bar- and pizza-joint packed little slice of heaven stood for the first letter in its name. Now, I think it may have stood for "motherhood," as I received some of the best training I could ever ask for when it comes to taking care of my newborn son.

Huh? you say. Ah, yes. Allow me to explain.

Newborn babies aren't really all that different from drunken fraternity boys. I have good amount of experience with caring for the latter, and very little for the former, but my time on M Street trained me well for my current vocation. First, there's the "I know you don't feel like eating right now, but you have to, because I promise you that you'll thank me later" speech. I give that now almost as much as I did 15 (!) years ago.

Then, there's the look. With eyes sleepily half open, drool coming out of the corner of the goofy smile, and the head bobbing side to side, you can't help but giggle a little bit, especially when they profess their love to you.

And finally, there's the ultimate parallel: Don't throw up on me, DON'T throw up on me, DO NOT THROW UP ON ME!

Yeah, it didn't work then, either.