Hey, Henry. Can you -- can you bite my finger, please? Bite my finger. Henry, we're never gonna go viral unless you bite my finger!

Henry says "Good morning, Uncle Hank. It's Monday!"

Henry, you know how I can tell you're an astronaut? Like all astronauts, you're wearing SPACE PAJAMAAAAAS!

Henry, like his father, wears pajamas until well into the afternoon. We both work from home.

Henry, why are you so much better lit than I am? You're stealing my light. You seem to have forgotten that this YouTube channel is called "Vlogbrothers", not "vlogadorablebaby."

Having now spent seven weeks with a newborn, I feel like I'm something of an expert in the field. And while babies could hardly be more adorable, I can't help but come to the conclusion that babies can be a tiny bit self-centered. [Henry swings arms] Did you just punch me in the face on purpose? It's always, "Change MY diaper. Feed ME. Offer ME comfort. Give ME a pacifier." What about my pacifier, Hank? When will Henry give me a pacifier? In fact, Hank, sometimes it doesn't even seem like Henry thinks I'm a person. It seems like he thinks I'm some kind of robot need-filler.

[in robot voice, to Henry] "I am your robot need-filler. What are your needs? Do you need to be nommed? Nom nom nom nom nom nom nom."

But anyway, Hank, the weirdest part of the complete inability of infants to apprehend that other people also have needs is that I don't care. Something weird and base and nurturing happened to me when he was born to cause me to want to, like, change poopy diapers. By the way, Hank, no matter how efficient a diaper-changer you are, there will always be one nanosecond between the old diaper and the new diaper where the bottom is diaper-less. And to Henry, that moment is known as poopy time.

There's something about being a parent that turns you weirdly insular, so you find yourself really only caring about the needs of your kid, which is why, for instance, I forgot to tell you guys that I had a book coming out in like twenty-five days.

Henry says, "Will Grayson, Will Grayson available for pre-order now, link in the doobly-doo!" Thanks, bud. I appreciate the marketing.

Hank, there's this term in the study of religion: "ultimate concern". Your ultimate concern is the thing or value that you prize above all others. The one you would die for. The one you would kill for. Now, of course, it's pretty easy to go through life without an ultimate concern. For instance, I don't think Henry has one yet. You know, because he's still in the business of self-preservation. But Hank, nerdfighters, that's what I want this week's theme to be. Do you have an ultimate concern? What is it? Should you have one?

Right now, my ultimate concern certainly involves making sure that this little guy is happy and healthy and has an opportunity to look at himself in various mirrors. But I don't know if it should be limited to that. Should your ultimate concern be limited to your family? Should it be about politics, or policy? About your community, or your nation, or the human species? Should it take into account other species, and if so, should those species be treated as equal to humans? Or should self-preservation and our own needs trump everything? And when did my husky voice transform into the voice of a pubescent boy? Those are my non-rhetorical questions of the week. I'll see you on Wednesday. [Henry sighs, John mimics him] Did you just sigh because you're bored of me video blogging?

Willy says, "I'm still here! And I'm cute, too!"

How we gonna kick it, gonna kick it tummy time! Yes, Hank, Henry's favorite rap songs include "How We Gonna Kick It, Gonna Kick It Tummy Time," "No Sleep Till Burpin'," and, of course, "Who's Down with OPP? Dad's Down with OPP." You know, other people's poop.