Happy birthday to Abel

He turned one. He slept most of the day because the doctor gave him five shots.

More appealing, if less vital, were these gifts:

Cupcakes.

Onesies (i.e., bodysuits).

Wagon, Radio Flyer, plastic, small. For giving rides to stuffed animals. (Did I mention he walks now?)

Dog, white with black spots, plastic, noise-making, profoundly disturbing to Samuel.

Literature: Fortunately, by Remy Charlip. Not really meant for Abel’s age-group (he doesn’t object). Amusing to Samuel. Mildly disturbing to Daniel. Both reactions are correct.

Most of these gifts were from Karin’s dad’s family.

Abel was to have had a little party at my parents’ house, but my mom slipped on some ice and broke her arm. She’ll have surgery later this week. Last night, when I called, she was in high spirits: adequately drugged, surrounded by other progeny.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Here is another quote about the postman Courtney Elliot, from The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole:

Courtney Elliot has offered to give me private tuition for my “O” levels. It seems he is a Doctor of Philosophy who left academic life after a quarrel in a university common room about the allocation of new chairs. Apparently he was promised a chair and didn’t get it.

It seems a trivial thing to leave a good job for. After all, one chair is very much like another. But then I am an existentialist to whom nothing really matters.

I don’t care which chair I sit in.

I don’t think I would leave a university if I didn’t get a Chair, but I might if I didn’t get a chair. Some intellectuals (e.g., Victor Hugo, Sam the Architect) stand before a desk to work, but I’m not so vigorous as to do that.

Not just any chair would do. I would need a sofa, or at least an armchair from Goodwill.

The WAG

Saturday night. We’re in our back yard, using our new patio furniture. We’ve bought Bianca a leash and a harness; even so, she refuses to join us outside. …

Aaaannnddd now we’re inside. We missed Bianca too much to stay apart from her. Also, it’s warmer in here.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

You should come to watch your bf play soccer, I tell Edoarda. You probably don’t realize how good he is. Stephen is very, very good.

Absentmindedly she replies: I think somebody told me that.

I’m not that good, says Stephen.

Don’t listen to him, I tell Edoarda. Stephen is truly excellent.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Easter Sunday. Extravagant breakfast at the church; then, pickup soccer from 2:00 to 4:30. Edoarda goes with us. The sole WAG, she watches from the bench, the sun beating down on her. Stephen and I play quite well, but this doesn’t alleviate Edoarda’s misery. Did you see my golazos?, I ask. Uh huh, she murmurs. With my toe I arch a lovely assist to the male Sabby (I’ve gone back to wearing Venus shoes instead of cleats, and, once again, my touch is beautifully precise). I turn toward the bench: Did you see that pass? Uh huh, says Edoarda.

There’s nothing to do but sit, she says.

Well, that’s how it is, watching soccer.

Afterward, driving home, Stephen turns to Edoarda: Did you like how we played? Yes, Edoarda smiles. I did.

A journey to Big Lots

So pleasant was her spring break (the Everglades; Key West), Mary itched to spend more time outside; and so today she dragged me out with her to Big Lots. These patio chairs — one for her, one for Martin — were what she came away with. Not to be outdone, I bought this chair (the blue one) and a giant bag of popcorn.

When we got home, we arranged our chairs next to the hot tub and sat wordlessly. But soon Mary missed Bianca, who never leaves the house. Mary went inside; she returned, the cat clutched to her breast; Bianca, terrified of the hot tub (that great expanse of water) — or perhaps of nature — squirmed out of Mary’s arms and fled indoors.

How, then, would Mary manage? (For how could she enjoy her patio furniture without her precious cat?)

“Bianca!” she coaxed. “Come out here, Bianca!” She held the screen door open. Tentatively, fearfully, the little nose emerged. The beast surveyed the landscape.

“It’s all right, Kitty. Come out, explore the porch.”

The cat extended her paw onto the step. Quickly, she withdrew it.

She sniffed the air, put out her paw again, remained in place.