WINDING DOWN . . .

Cheech is really good with kids, which is handy given that he will most likely become a pediatrician and have to spend 24/7 with the little anklebiters. (By the way, they DO bite ankles, and I have the scars to prove it. The nickname didn't come from out of thin air, you know.) Note how MJ reclined on Cheech's lap at the Yankee game tonight (Go Yanks, Boston Sucks) and gazed adoringly at his face with a slightly-drunk grin on his face.

Four adults, two babies. Not a bad ratio for a nighttime, loud, raucous, violent-but-not-in-our-section Yankee game against the Boston Red Sox (suck). The only emergency happened when C went to the concession stands for a bottle of water to mix with powdered baby formula ... and returned with two cups of beer and some ice cream. M and I shared the same expression: "What the ..." We were rendered speechless. So we sent Cheech off for the aforementioned, desperately-needed water ... and waited two and a half innings for his belated return. Thankfully, he came back also armed with cheese fries. Even the Noodles forgave him.

No one puked, no one had a poo emergency, no one fussed beyond the means of management, no one threw Cheerios in the hair of the people sitting in front of us, no one accidentally ashed cigarettes on the Noodles' arms, and no one showed any alarm at the increasingly loud chants and insults being hurled about. Even Cheech had to ask: "are they always this chill, or is something wrong with them?" Chill, indeed. Those kids are troopers.

But now I'm all wired. Sitting in one frozen position, chained into place by a sleeping 18-pound child, makes for very sore and restless bones and muscles. Were it not 11:48pm, I would go for a run. As it is, I'm restricted to some light yoga and stretching and wondering if there's anyone awake at this hour who would want to shoot the breeze with me until I got drowsy ...

Or I could turn my attention back to Harry Truman. He and I are now in 1939, and the world is on the verge of war. He's having a rough go of it in the Senate and I, for one, am very sympathetic. Yes, I think I'll go hang with Harry now ...

Listening to: one of JC's praise mixes
Daytime reading: "Me Talk Pretty One Day," by David Sedaris
Nighttime reading: "Truman," by David McCullough
Planning: to buy a bike and 20 mini-souffle cups for the desserts I am going to bake next week