Friday, September 23, 2005

Gloom, but also Becky

Hurricane Rita is going to hit the Texas/Louisiana border late tonight and do to Port Arthur what Katrina did to Gulfport and New Orleans. Meanwhile, the Red Sox, who have led the division for months, have suddenly started their time-honored choke ritual and are suddenly a game behind the Yankees and a game and a half behind Cleveland for the wild card with 10 games to go. The last series of the season is against New York, of course. Yes indeed, I can feel that familiar tightening in the lower intestinal region that comes along this time of year. In another time-honored ritual, Globe columnist Dan Shaughnessy has framed the whole thing in Biblical terms: "The Sox have been put on this earth to make us suffer. My eyes have seen the gory. The Sox are here to test our resolve." Oy.

On a much more cheerful note, the delightful Becky always has something interesting to say as she careens happily through life. She recently learned what rhyming was, and is understanding (in her own way) other concepts as well. Yesterday, she observed, "Light blue and dark blue COMPROMISE!" This morning I reminded her it was school picture day and she should wear something beautiful. She dashed into her room, then came back with an impish look and said, "My underwear doesn't have to be beautiful!" And the other day she was in the middle of something when she ran up to where I was sitting across the room, kissed my knee and ran back. Squish! I don't understand how these children can be so affectionate with a mother that sounds like a steam locomotive most of the time, saying "SHHHHH!" so vigorously that a fine spray is emitted, adding to the verisimilitude. When I became a parent, I foresaw laundry, messes, expense, bits of food everywhere, smelly diapers, a lot of brightly colored plastic and so on, but the one thing I did not take into consideration was the fact that kids do not come with a volume knob. What a fabulous after-market accessory that would be. Calling all inventive entrepreneurs...

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