Of Clocks and Testicles
The wall clock in the living room fell off at 5:15 a.m. Sunday morning.[Note to future parents: you may think that you'll get a free hour of extra sleep when time "falls back" as we go off Daylight Savings Time. You would be incorrect. Your children will just wake up at the same time, which is an hour earlier. Which is why we were up at 5 a.m. on Sunday, and why we'd watched the last four episodes of Avatar, run two miles on the local track, and gone to Krispy Kreme by 9 a.m.]
"Let's go shopping for clocks tonight," I said.
"Oh, no," Gloria said.
"What? Are my bona fides not clearly established after I helped Eli pick out school shoes?" He bought "Snotrockets," if you remember.
"Let me just say that I will be shopping for the clock," she said.
"How about if we do this," I said. "We'll go to Target and we'll each pick out a clock. Then, we'll resolve the dispute by a contest involving a feat of strength, or seeing who can reach up to a high ledge to pick up an item."
"But Dad," Eli said. "That's not fair, because you'll win both of--ohhhhhh."
***
We went to P.F. Chang's for dinner last weekend--"we" being Gloria and myself.
" 'Wandering Poet' ," I said, looking at the menu. "That's a great name for a brand of sake."
"And 'Snow Maiden' ," Gloria said. "These are all beautiful names."
"Well, not all," I said.
"Like what?" she asked, handing me the menu.
"I think 'Swollen Testicle' isn't a great choice," I said. "Translation issues, probably."
"Or 'Hanging Tits'," Gloria said.
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