I can’t wait. No, I’m not talking about the science project Wife and I have been working on for the past nine months (I’m the too-cool-for-school knucklehead who’s been cracking jokes while their lab partner does all the work), but, to be honest, that’s also getting a tad interminable. Actually, I was referring to the day, hopefully sometime in the not-too-distant future, that our world’s surplus furniture designers wake up from their 100 Year Snore and develop a recliner for adult men that mimics the exact functions of a motorized infant swing. In case you couldn’t tell, I’ve had some time to ponder this unholy marriage of star-crossed comfort because the infant swing we received as a gift from some very thoughtful friends is in my direct line of sight when I am fully reclined in my Craigslist Special recliner. I don’t know it it’s the way this bootleg recliner puts my spine out of alignment, or the fact that the infant swing has a fully working mobile, lullaby and white noise player, and ducky harness that is making me wish I had my very own swing graded for 200 pound adults. Whatever it is, its influence has gripped me with the power of one thousand Motorized Adult Recliner Swings, which, in case you didn’t know, is measured in L.A.F.’s (Lazy Ass Fathers). Sigh. Will I ever know such joy?