Monday, November 9, 2009
Stain and Snot
It was Fran’s brother/my friend/my brother’s friend Matt’s birthday this Saturday. 26! Our little Matt is all grown up.
I made a cake for the occasion. He seemed pretty thrilled. Fran’s nickname for him is Stain. “He’s the stain of my life!” she has said. Upon seeing his cake he said, “I’m not sure if there has ever been a cake that said ‘Happy B-Day, Stain!’ on it, but I’m sure it’s the only one that exists at this very moment”
Profound and most likely true.
There was to be bowling later in the evening but my head was in a cloud of congestion so I didn’t go. Matt still has/uses the bowling shoes I stole for him when we were young. I had forgotten all about my thievery. Not Matt.
Sunday was little Alyssa’s gymnastics tournament. 2 hours and none of it takes place directly in front of you. It was hot, kids were restless. That didn’t stop Alyssa from blowing everyone’s mind with her tiny nimbleness.
She’s the queen of obedience. She had been told by her Mom not to wipe snot on her leotard. (She’s a kid. You have to explain things like this to them.) She sneezed. Out comes the snot. She sat there with it hanging out of her nose not daring to wipe it on her leotard. A girl next to her was pointing at it. Little Alyssa didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t break the rules and wipe the snot on her leotard. This is some ninja shit. Refusing to disobey. The snot was taken care of, the world continued to spin.