My buddy Joe was one of the first to get his driver’s
license out of the guys I hung out with in high school. Whenever I hear C+C Music Factory (which is
extremely rare come to think of it,) my mind teleports to riding through the
streets of Manchester in Joe’s Mazda 626 while Gonna Make You Sweat blared out any attempted conversation between
the passengers. Ah, the nineties. I digress.
Tilly has recently transitioned somewhere from Australopithecus
man to Homo habilis man. Assuming the memory
serves me correctly from World Cultures
class, Australopithecus was one of the more primitive primates from whom humans
evolved. Homo habilis was the first
species in the evolutionary chain who used tools. I think.
Or maybe it was Homo erectus.
Irregardless, Tilly has begun mastering pulling herself up
to stand. The other day, I saw her
standing at the toy tool table. She was
firing away at the circular saw until Gus came along and nudged her out of the
way. Tilly then grabbed a toy hammer and
whacked away at her brother’s leg.
Hence, homo habilis.
Notwithstanding her evolutionary progression, Tilly’s eating
quirks are probably more akin to Cro-Magnon man or possibly Neanderthal. First, the volume of food she consumes is
akin to the intake of a Biggest Loser contestant the night before they begin a
competition. Second, her table manners
are atrocious. We basically need a high-powered
hose to blast away all the food scraps and crumbs that accumulate between her
fingers, in her hair, on her cheeks, and in the folds of her neck after a
meal.
Most entertaining, though, is the sound that Tilly makes
once we’ve begun to feed our little beast.
The only way I can accurately describe my baby’s happy hum while eating
is well, um, the sound I imagine of a woman taking a bubble bath with several
lit candles around her after a couple glasses of Chardonnay as she watches that
movie about male strippers starring Channing Tatum and Matthew McConaughey. I’m just saying. It’s funny and uncomfortable
to witness at the same time.
That’s is for this week.
I’m off to download “Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)” because
I can’t get it out of my brain.
Thoughts Too Long for
Side Note at Side Bar:
THE WIFE graciously granted me a short parole this weekend
so I could catch at least one of the four NFL playoff games. I headed to Owen O’Leary’s, which is an Irish
Pub and Restaurant just over the border between Easton and Brockton. I’d never eaten there but I drive by it
literally every single day, so it’s been on the list of places to check out for
a while.
Upon entering, I deduced quickly that the average age of the
clientele was somewhere between seventy and eighty years old. Mind you, I was there on a Sunday at four o’clock,
but I was still surprised at how much of a hot spot this was for the “well into
retirement” crowd.
So this place is an old school type of family restaurant
with very affordable entrees and Keno to boot.
The ambience is kind of dark and sleepy.
The décor is kind of outdated but clean and presentable. Most of the couples ignored each other and
their food because their eyes were transfixed on the monitor to see if they hit
on their seven pick exacto.
I ordered the shepard’s pie and a stout. Neither disappointed. Good stuff.
Rumor has it that OO’s has a younger crowd during Pats’ games and when
Stonehill’s students are back in session, but I’ll believe it when I see it…
I caught the Seahawks-Redskins game and just before it
began, Erin Andrews (formerly of ESPN, Dancing With The Stars, and the
unfortunate victim of a peeping Tom with a camera as she changed in a hotel room)
came on the screen with a Fox pre-game report.
I couldn’t help but notice that everyone in the place all took a brief pause
to look at the gorgeous woman. I forgot
how attractive she is…
I ask this sincerely because making fun of health issues
just isn’t funny. Has anyone heard
Boomer Esiason’s voice lately? Somebody
give that guy a lozenge. Just listening
to him gives me a sore throat. I’ll feel
like a complete jackass if he genuinely has a throat sickness or something, but
assuming that’s not the case, he needs to take some time off from work like
yesterday. Every time I hear him on the
radio, I crave a hot toddy…
Speaking of the radio, the best report I heard after leaving
the restaurant went something like this, “Thanks Jim. I was just standing near the bench of the
Seahawks and [the field goal kicker I think] was having his groin stretched
feverishly.” Personally, I’m pretty sure
I know how I’d react to someone stretching my groin. For said person to stretch my groin
feverishly, well, I’d probably start making sounds like Tilly does when she’s
eating a nice meal…
