day onetwelve

Twasn't too long ago that there was a day twelve entry. 100 days to be exact. Well, time flies when you drink your meals and sleep all the time. Just ask any Beta from UNC or Zete from UVa. But anyway, the promised pictures.


As mentioned earlier, last weekend I went to see Cam, otherwise known as the Squintmeister General. We had a great time, especially bouncing this ball off of his forehead. But lest I laugh too hard, he always crawled over to my place of respite to place a hand in my face to remind me who's boss. He'd just stare at me and say "Who's the boss, Little Man?" and I'd say "Tony Danza" and then we'd fall down laughing.

Sometimes his dad wanted to play with the ball. Note the look of resignation on Jay's face as he once again loses control of it to Cam.





This is a picture from the first wedding I went to. Hard to know where my seersucker ends and dad's begins. Earlier in the day we had one of those moments, just like in a Hugh Grant movie. I come out of the nursery wearing my seersucker and dad walks out of his nursery wearing his seersucker, and we just have a big laugh and say 'oh my gosh, I can't believe you are wearing that, I'm wearing the same thing!' and so on and so forth. But we were already late for the wedding and mom already had the car running in the garage and she just kept honking and we knew we just had to make the best of it. In case you were wondering, the little sailboat on my seersucker suit (seen above) is exactly like the one embroidered on the back of dad's seersucker jacket.

day oneten

I would be posting pictures, but the fact is that it is so hot that little heat waves appear in front of every person I take a picture of. I've got some good ones to put up of my man Cam from our visit to the other Carolina this past weekend. It was the first time I'd ever stayed in the 'Upstate,' but it pretty much seemed the same as where we live because the Tour de France was always on.

Dad seems different, and frankly a bit dispondent since the Tour wrapped up. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's his love/hate relationship with Lance. But it's probably because he once again realizes that the Boss was right when he said '57 channels and nothin's on.'

Uggh. The keyboard's getting sweaty. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen, in my diaper, trying to find a cool spot on the linoleum. Mom will be doing the same.

day one-oh-four

Above is a scene from the dream I had last night, the one right before I rolled over in my sleep and woke myself up. In any case, I don't know what the dream means, but I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that dad is about to start law school?

And for those of you looking for a little something interesting to do, check out;

http://www.wordsmith.org/anagram/index.html#1

You can find out all the anagrams for your name there. Mine, for example, comes up with

St. Rabbit Charmer

Awesome.

day one-oh-one redux

Hand-holding is the ultimate sign of masculinity in modern-day Baghdad.

day one-oh-one

OK folks, I know you are eager to hear of my doings. Tomorrow I anticipate there will be new pictures of me with my partner in crime, the aforementioned Bilcon. On Saturday we drove to visit Connor and his parents in the land of the Crimson Tide and the state that I hope will soon be governed by Sir Charles Barkley. There and back in one day, and for those of you who have ever driven that strip of I-20 from Oxford to Birmingham, you know that the ride between Croatia and Serbia in the mid-90's was likely smoother than that cursed strip of blacktop. Nonetheless, the jostling made my senses sharper and gave me the opportunity to think about the trouble Connor and I will get in during various holiday vacations in the decade between 2010 and 2019, and to consider whether or not George Hincapie should be the leader of the Discovery Channel Team next year.

At any rate, kudos to Big George for winning his first stage of Le Grand Tour, a feat not unlike me rolling over 3 times in as many minutes this morning.

day ninetyseven

I thought I'd go ahead and get all the potty humour out of the way within a few posts. Nonetheless, I could not deny this picture that grandad C magically caught a few weeks ago. I mean, this happens 8 times a day, and it apparently isn't funny when there is no camera around. The lens changes everything though, as Annie Liebowitz has taught us so well.

I suppose there is some divine ironic reciprocity with all of this though. The day that dad plans to post this picture, so full of jocular self-righteousness, I spitup pretty much all over him. He thinks he gets it off, until he goes to work and finds that the links of his watch smell redolent of what I like to call 'baby yogurt.' Ha! Just like Haman, hung on his own gallows.

Come on, you know, Haman, from the book of Esther. Sheesh!

day ninetythree - graphic details from the front

Monday, July 11, 2005
Mom - Staff Reporter

Unconfirmed reports circulated late this morning that the world's largest poop had been expelled by  local 3 month old, Barritt.

"Mom told me I had one job to do today, so I figured I better go ahead and get busy," Barritt told reporters.

"It was a complete surprise," Mom says.  "Well, I mean, not a complete surprise...it had been two and a half days since the last poopy diaper, so I figured there was a big one coming."

But nothing could have prepared her for what happened at approximately
10:45 this morning.  Barritt had recently woken from his morning nap
and enjoyed his regular snack of warm milk.

"I couldn't figure out where he was putting it all.  He was nursing as
much as he always does, and yet there were no poops.  Toots, yes, but
no poops."

The first hints came after Barritt became uncharacteristically fussy
during a stint in the bouncy chair.  Calming Vibrations were not
calming, the pacifier not pacifying.  Mom even tried dangling the
octopus and the Whoozit in front of him and singing made-up songs, to
no avail.

"I saw the tell-tale signs around the edges of his diaper and I was
glad he'd finally gone.  But when I actually opened the diaper and saw
the massive mustard-colored mess, I didn't know whether to laugh or
cry."

It took 5 minutes and as many wipes to contain the outpouring, the
fallout extending from Barritt's belly to his foot, where he'd kicked
at the messy diaper during the clean up.  Barritt calmly looked on as
Mom frantically tried to contain the poop and avoid leakage onto the
rug.  Fortunately, Huggies' Gigglastic and Mom's swift action kept the
damage to a minimum.

"I can't say this won't happen again, especially if Mom keeps up with
the all Mexican and ruffage diet," Barritt warned, then promptly fell
asleep.

day eightysix

Apparently, cleanliness is next to, um, the paper towel holder.