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of trouble exiting a hole that was approximately the diameter of a Kennedy silver dollar.

As one might expect, this held my attention for quite some time.

In hindsight, I realize now, that my fascination with mirrors and the physics of something too large to come out of a tiny hole had distracted me. I had, at best, only given a cursory consideration to the fact that in a few short months, I would be the mother of a real live baby.

I knew nothing about pregnancy and childbirth. But, I knew even less about nursing, bottles, feeding schedules, naps, diapers, burping, swaddling and just the general maintenance and upkeep of a baby.

But no worries.

I relied heavily on television commercials for that - especially the one on Downy fabric softener. You know, the one with the soft camera lens focused on the serenely contented mother in her beautiful, white, lacy gown, rocking and cooing tenderly over her blissfully happy newborn?

You've seen that one right? Yeah, me too. And so, lucky for me, the advent of television and commercial advertising allowed me to focus on far more important issues - like that small hole.

I remember the day of reckoning well. It was Sunday, June 16, 1991. Approximately two weeks before my due date.

It was a typical, balmy, summer day in Louisiana. Soaking humidity and sweltering heat hung in the air. I was swollen and full to capacity with child. Under normal circumstances, such heat and humidity would have rendered me completely incapable of doing much more than waddling from air conditioned room to air conditioned room, with little energy to spare.

So, it seemed peculiar that I would wake with an overwhelming and compelling urge to clean every square inch of my house. But I did.

I had heard of this phenomenon called nesting. Supposedly, it's Mother Nature's way of signaling an impending birth. I can't vouch for its validity or truth one way or the other; I just know that when I rolled out of bed that day I was searching for a toothbrush, knee pads and a fine tooth comb.

Every dust mite must be found and eradicated. Every picture on every wall must be perfectly aligned with the gravitational pull of the planets. Every corner, nook and cranny must be meticulously swept, vacuumed and polished. And every single drawer must be emptied and reorganized. Even those in the far recesses of the house that no one ever opened unless they were looking for a piece of string or a spare button or something.

You never know. I might actually need a piece of string

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