No plumber.No Oprah.No baby. Ok, the plumber came, but he did nothing.And, really, Oprah might’ve been by, but I’m not sure.And the baby, well, let me tell you, she tried. Is it weird that I don’t want my baby coming out of an unshowered me?My feet are unacceptable. “Now just put your feet up here,” they might say. “No.” “Excuse me? Honey, put your feet up here,” an emphatic clap on the stirrup. “No.” “But it’s time to push,” incredulous. “That’s great, I haven’t showered in two days, I haven’t been wearing shoes and I have dry wall dust gummed up between my toes.” The plumber is coming at 8. I figure I’ll take a sort of bus stop bath in the downstairs bathroom…