Austin360 blogs > Bottlecaps & Wingnuts > Archives > 2008 > February > 08 > Entry
The ExerSaucer and other AcipHex
Several weeks ago the Statesman ran this story about the lengths companies go to when it comes to naming drugs. You know, Viagra, Prozac … all those household names were just made up by someone.
The story quotes a guy as saying “Effient” is a bold name because it’s just a few letters a way from “efficient.” Of course, my first thought was that it was a few letters away from “effluent.” You can look it up right here.
The story also says companies spend up to half a million dollars to invent and test a new brand name.
Which is why I think someone’s gonna want their money back when it comes to AcipHex. When I first heard the commercial for this, I had my back turned to the TV, and it sounded remarkably like they were pronouncing two very common words.
You know, like “I have AcipHex, but I’m going to the proctologist on Tuesday.”
I don’t think it’s gonna make it.
Didn’t blog all week, but the boy and I have both been ill. He’s stayed home. I even stayed home on Thursday. We have spent a lot of time together. Got me thinking that I should blog on how we spend a typical day.
8 a.m. The boy wakes up. Usually happy. Me, not so much. I blearily change his diaper and go downstairs to make coffee and warm up some milk. So far, I’ve always managed to give him the milk and me the coffee.
8:30 a.m. We settle down to have our morning coffee/milk and watch “The New Detectives” on the Discovery Times channel. I want my boy to learn early important lessons such as, “if you have to kill someone, make sure to never leave your cigarette butt at the crime scene.”
I’m just kidding, of course. He’s more interested in his toys. But I’m learning.
9 a.m. It’s breakfast time. He gets a bowl of fruit mush and a bowl of oatmeal mush. I’m a grown-up, so I get to have brown sugar in my oatmeal mush.
9:30 a.m. The boy goes in the poop machine. Other parents might call it the ExerSaucer, but I know better. I can count the number of times on my well-washed fingers when I’ve removed him from the ExerSaucer and haven’t had to change his diaper. The trade-off is that the poop machine immobilizes and entertains him so I can use the restroom, put in my contacts, wander out and get the paper, etc.
10 a.m. Play time. Dr. Seuss called this “Hop on Pop.” Hundreds of toys and nothing is quite so interesting as the cookbooks in the kitchen, a plastic spoon or a pot lid to bang on the floor.
11 a.m. Nap time. The boy might sleep 30 minutes. Or it might be 2 hours. I can blog (as I’m doing now), take a shower, clean the house or stare blankly into space for an hour or so.
12:30 p.m. Lunch time. You wouldn’t believe the awful stuff I can convince him to eat. Lunch is a lot harder than breakfast, because I’m in more of a hurry and he’s in less of a hurry.
Post-lunch … depends generally on my work schedule. Sometimes we’re off in the new all-terrain jogging stroller for an hour. Sometimes we’re packing up and headed for daycare. Either way, he will spend 2-4 hours in daycare before Shannon picks him up at about 5:15 or so.
In fact, we don’t call it daycare. We call it baby happy hour. The boy shows up, he flirts with the girls, drinks some milk, crawls around, and he’s out of there.
By that time, I’m sweating headlines and misplaced commas at work. The boy? He’s got a warm meal at home, a warm bath and an early bedtime.
I like his schedule better.
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