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Home. She’s home! Well, she’s been home for a coupla days now anyway, but this has been my first break. She’s on bed rest with a couple broken ribs, a fracture in her jaw, a dislocated knee and a ton of cuts, scrapes and bruises. Poor thing.

And a baby.

Yeah. Forgot to mention that, huh? Well, so did she.

In her defense, she took a test and it was negative, but she was still feeling crappy. I dunno why she didn’t listen to her body and went on this stupid assignment anyway. She coulda gotten herself killed. And our baby. I wanna smack her sometimes. But how can I when she does what she does to keep me safe? Me, Rory, and all the rest of the free world.

I’m in a real mess here. I’m totally ticked off at her for putting herself on the line like this, but then I’m also proud that she’d risk her life to save mine, or that of anyone else. So, whaddaya do? I sure as hell don’t know.

But wow. Another baby? What the hell am I gonna do? They’re not even gonna be eighteen months apart. Holy crap! Rory’s already a handful and he’s only six months old. What’s this one gonna be like? Especially being the spawn of me and Ali? I’m scairt.

I think it’s time to start booking my next tour. A LONG one this time.

Tim’s a-callin’ me. Seems Rory is dumpin’ oatmeal all over the floor. Go figure. He’s never done that to me. Yeah, right. And if you believe that… Oh well. Better go rescue my guitar player from that big, bad ol’ baby boy. But I s’pose I shouldn’t tease him. He has been helpin’ me since Ali can’t. I owe him for that at least.

God, give me strength…

~Blake, Rory, and Tim the Terrified…