Thursday, May 27, 2010

He laughs because he knows he's got us around his little finger.

Back when I thought we would never have any more babies, Matt asked me "If we do, and if he's a boy, can I name him?" And I laughed a snarky laugh and said "Yeah, sure" because the thought seemed so ridiculous. Measures had been taken. Two weeks later, we found out I was pregnant. A few months after that, we found out he was a boy. Matthew was thrilled - no need to consult me at all! He had ultimate power! Any name he wanted! But what he didn't count on was this Flaco. This son of ours had his own ideas. Having heard Matthew once read through a list of names, he latched onto one, and decided that was it. Matthew said "Flaco, we don't know that. I haven't named him yet." Flaco appeased him; took to calling the baby Guac.
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We thought it was over; Matthew's confidence in his right to name the baby was restored. But then, the other day, Flaco climbed up next to me on the couch and started talking to the baby. "Guac, you are a good little boy" he said. "I'm going to play ball with you, Guac. We're going to play fútbol." I listened and smiled. Then he turned to me and said "You know the baby, yes?" Yes, I said. I guess I do. "And I know him too. But papá doesn't know him yet. That's why he doesn't know his name is _______."
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He turned back to my belly and stuck his chin way out and spoke in his whispy, high-pitched voice. "I love you, _______. I love you."
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All I can say is poor Matthew. What do you even say to that?

Thursday, May 20, 2010

The Graduate

Speaking of fine young men who are noble and true, my strapping brother-in-law graduated college last weekend. There is much to be said of such an achievement, but mostly I would like to take a moment to say that if you ever get invited to the Rogante's for a weekend, you should go go go. You don't need a diploma to know that not going would make you a fool. Oh, do they treat you well! We had a Greek feast following the ceremony, with appetizers and roasted meat and hummus and pitas - and much more, but I don't know how to spell it. (Unlike Fernando, I have not studied Greek.) Another night there was torchila; there were lemon bars and mate and Cokes and anything a heart could want. The following night there was picada - a table full of pretty much everything worth eating. Ice cream cake and coffee. Trips to the zoo and croquet and a table full of people who told jokes and talked apologetics and gave toasts and traded stories. I don't know what the future holds for my sister and her husband, but I hope it brings them close. (At least to fulfill my own selfish desires.)
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(Which is and isn't about the food.)

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Next time, cougar, next time he will take you down to Chinatown.

Once upon a time there was a fellow named Matthew. He was a fine fellow; dashing, cavalier, brave, and true. One day said fellow was at the zoo looking at the tigers, when out of the corner of his eye he noticed the cougar exhibit, some 200 feet away. He saw a father lift his small son above the railing and set him in front of the cage. In one savage motion, the cougar then reached out and knocked the boy to the ground. He grabbed him by the back and pulled him to the cage. The onlookers were paralyzed with fright. But back to the hero of our story. When he saw the boy flung to the ground, said fellow took off running like lightning. From where we stood, it appeared that the cougar had torn a hole in its cage and was dragging the boy inside. The hero's wife watched in horror and awe as her husband ran straight towards the fierce beast. Our hero ran towards the cage, shouting for people to look. Just as he arrived, the father of the child, who appeared to have been in shock, finally reacted*, climbing up and grabbing his son from beneath the cougar's heavy paws. The boy, screaming and bleeding, was carried away by his sobbing mother. Our hero stood by, waiting for his heart to stop rushing, wishing desperately he hadn't been too much of a gentleman to push the boy's father out of the way.
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*Had even a second or more passed, I think this boy would have lost an arm. Truly. It was awful. The cougar had him pinned down and had his muzzle through the fence. Or just one more swipe and he could have hit his jugular. As flippantly as I may have ended this, we are incredibly grateful that his father got there when he did. And I truly truly am proud of my husband, who rushed towards danger, not knowing that the fence wasn't broken, ready to go in after the boy. Matthew Matthew, you are something.