A sick kid's like a messy lawn - you'd hate to have a neighbor complain, but it's sure more convenient if you can get a professional in to deal...

After an amazing New Year mix of Holidaze and general days, we've been smacked clean in the middle of the forehead by the nature of parenting. A child. Inexplicably sick. Full of snot. And discontent. With the welcoming hug of so-so-many available surrogates gone, I was left to ponder this past Thursday and Friday - where have all those pretty flowers gone? Let me digress...

Maya awoke on New Year's morning with a cough that would have made even Bea Arthur uncomfortable. Phlegm. Or the Feared Flems. Whatever. No one can wear that raspy thing for long before the listener begins to question their own mortality. So we dealt. Probably pretty poorly. Mainly on my watch. But I'm still driven by the general pronouncement of "Maya's such a good girl" in all circumstances. Even though I think she might have compared me to the Lord of All That is Evil for not relieving her pain, we're now seeming like we're past the worst of it. Sorry that I don't have any especially cute coughing pics to offer. Now or ever.

Looks like we're headed into a crazy biggun week for Iraq policy posturing. In my opinion, we've all been willing to give Dubya all the leeway in the remaining free world with regard to his Sisyphus-like contemplation. But I foresee one major mistake emerging that I expect all my plagarists to soon echo - Dubya's reluctance to do his job allowed the newly empowered Dems to undercut him by advising that a troop increase is an admitted failure. Dubya's still pathologically stuck in the same mode that informs his arrogance. Call it his "I'm the Decider" Syndrome. Because as soon as you feel the need to tell people that's what you are...well, that role slips away like so many false dreams of a legacy. I fully expect any New Year hangover of pulled punches directed at Dubya to seem so utterly 2006. If you think you've seen an unpopular Prezidunt in your lifetime...well, just wait.

I got an especially friendly offer from a friend to go the Seattle Seahawks' Wildcard game versus the Dallas Cowboys this evening. I'll take my camera. And my keen eye for detail. And a shiv for the first Seahawks fan that asks me "Are You the 12th Man?" That sucker's goin' down. Hope your own encounters today lead to results that just may cover the spread. Rock on.