Kneel Before Zod

It's time to declare a winner in the cheek battle. No one can look at this photo (grainy and out of focus though it is) and deny that Iain's cheeks have finally spun out of control. He can hardly open his mouth from the weight of the cheek-fat. Note how his chin is starting to disappear into it.

.

They're irresistible, too. I can't stop kissing them. Charles rubs his beard against them. People want to reach out and touch them. Even Superman would find himself forced to yield to the awesome power of the cheeks.

Dignity is Overrated

Who's afraid to disco? Not Will.

Brando's Family

Yesterday we visited Brando in his natural environment. Here, you see him observe Charles, consider, and then prepare to scream. It's ok, Brando. Lots of people have had that reaction over the years. You'll soon find that he's a softie.


Brando's Mommy was busy playing with Big Sister Chloe.



To me, Brando looks a lot like his Grandfather. But he also bears a strong resemblance to Aunt Miriam when she was a baby.

Here he is with Grandmother. Little does he know it, but this is actually The Lap of Luxury. Seriously. In the OED, if you look up "luxury" there's a picture of Brando's grandmother. In the picture, I think she's making corn pudding, but I can't be sure. Could be french-toast casserole.

Last but certainly far from least, here's Chloe smiling. Check out that blonde hair - just like Mommy.

In other news:

1. Driving to Louisville, we saw a pickup truck with somebody's belongings loaded up in the back. Mattress, dresser, etc. all strapped down with rope. But whoever's stuff that was, they had their priorities straight. I know this because on top of the pile were 2 cases of Ale8, in bottles of course, strapped tightly onto the mattress and jiggling in the wind. Because you can't move without Ale8.

2. Aunt Miriam adores me. Do anything for me. Why? Because I find stuff like this for her.

Ticker

According to the super-reliable (and very deep) USA Today, the life expectancy for an American woman is 80.1 years.

But not for me.

I've decided to start keeping track of the years Iain is removing from my life. Like this:

79.1: That time last week he flung himself off the guest bed and I caught him two inches from the floor. Now, it was only about a 12-inch drop, and the floor is carpeted. But still. Minus one year.

78.1: This morning, when he bit off a chunk of teething biscuit, gagged, and then vomited three times all over the place, red-faced and looking at me like, "Holy Cannoli, Batman!" Minus 1.

Why do I have a bad feeling about this?

Busy Busy Busy

It's been a very busy day. I'll need more than one post to capture all the fun, but let's start with Iain's two new toys. Both are appropriate for his main toy-enjoyment approach ("Hey! I wonder how that would taste?")



It's a HABA toy, orange, red and yellow with lovely little nubs to shove against your aching gums. Good timing, since Iain appears to be getting his first tooth this week. At least, I hope so. If not, he's just grumpy.

Toy Number 2 has a similar purpose (that's what those eye-capsules are for), but also sits up by itself and can be tilted in various directions. The arms pull through from one side to another, too. And when it moves the discs make clicking noises. Basically, lots of fun in a froggy package. Note the hand.

And here is the cause of all this largesse. Aunt Miriam, giver of many wonderful things, maker of beautiful cross-stitched Beatrix Potter blankets and pictures, baker of Impossible Pies and maker of skinny pancakes, exemplar of elegance and proof that good parenting can make good people, and - above all - a really, really good friend.

No Need for Collagen

Thanks, I think my lips/cheeks/chins are plump enough.

Further Developments

Look! How tiny is Ben? Teensy. Still so little his kimono shirt hangs off his tummy. So adorable.


And here's the close-up of that expression people talk about when they say babies look wise. He looks pretty smart, huh? I think he looks a little like his grandmother in this picture.

Ben is probably at home now, basking in the adoration of his mom, grandmother, and doting dad. Iain can hardly wait to hang out. He's even willing to share his beloved Breakstone's cottage cheese container. But not the lid. The lid is too precious.

I woke up grumpy

Leave me alone. I just want to sit here with my Breakstone's container.

Making Yeast Rolls

We're just back from our Thanksgiving dinner, down the road with friends. Our contribution was twofold. First, we brought asparagus to roast in the oven. As you can see, you just cut off the ends, and (if the spears are big and fat) use your veggie peeler to pare off a little of the hard skin on the end.

These were bagged for transport, but at home you'd lay them out on a cookie sheet, drizzle them with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, then roast at 425F for 10-15 minutes (If they're skinny, or you like asparagus crispier, leave them in for less time. If you like your asparagus soft, or if the spears are thick, leave them in longer.) It's easy and the result is very tasty.

Boiling or steaming asparagus makes no sense to me - the spears are all wet so anything you add (butter, sauce, salt) just slips off. They end up tasting like bare vegetable. This way, the olive oil on the spears helps the salt and pepper stick, so they taste yummy. You can add other things if you like, just make sure you use spices that won't burn. So no garlic or green herbs. You could add herbs after the tray comes out, and toss them with the spears before serving. As you can see in the picture, I line my tray with a silpat (silicone patty), which ensures no sticking.


Our other contribution was yeast rolls. I have never before made yeast rolls, and I rarely cook with yeast. Maybe that's why I found these a bit of a challenge.

Or maybe (just maybe) it was the fact that the recipe called for 3 cups of flour but the eventual product required more than 4. When you look into your mixer and instead of bread dough you see something that looks like cake batter - that's bad.

But I pulled it out in the end. These rolls proved why playing with yeast is not for the faint of heart, though. I started the mixture at 7:30am. The final product emerged from the oven at 1pm. Seriously.

Charles thought they were tasty, though. I've included the (corrected) recipe below, but it's a basic roll recipe.


I got the recipe (in its original form, and minus the snarky additions) here.

1. Put 4 cups of flour in your mixing bowl, add one teaspoon of salt. Be sure to use iodized salt, because kosher salt is less salty and will throw off the taste. Whisk it a bit to mix.

2. In a saucepan, heat 1 cup of milk to 180F (I used a candy thermometer, but 180 is basically just beginning to boil - you're scalding the milk), then add 4 tablespoons of butter and one tablespoon of sugar. Stir it up, then take it off the heat and let it cool to 115F (pretty warm. This took 5 minutes, maybe). Then add a packet of yeast, and set it aside for 10 minutes.

3. Add 3 more tablespoons of sugar to the yeast mix, stir, and then add the glop to the flour in your bowl. Add two large eggs.

4. Put the dough hook on your mixer, or else get ready for a workout and use your wooden spoon. Mix on medium (or stir vigorously while your arm muscles protest) for 5 or 10 minutes until you have a ball that pulls away from the sides of the bowl. Don't be precious about it - it doesn't *all* pull away. Some sticks.

5. Get out a big bowl. Pour in some olive oil, plop in your dough ball, roll it around to coat it in oil, and drape a towel over the top. Set a timer for 2 hours and walk away. Make yourself a martini. Yes, at 8am.

[If your kitchen is cold, you can put the bowl in your oven (turned off!) for the rising. The light in your oven will generate enough heat to keep things warm-ish]

6. When the timer goes off, come back, get out a cookie tray or a non-stick muffin tin. If your muffin tin is covered in rust chips, don't use it. Anyway, spray with PAM, wipe with oil, do something to make it greasy.

7. Divide your dough into 12 pieces. Do not divide it, miscount, and think 8 pieces are actually 12 pieces. That will be awkward later. Once divided, roll the dough around and make balls out of it. Put them on the greasy cookie sheet or in the greasy muffin tin.

8. Cover, let them sit for half an hour. Uncover. Let them sit another hour and a half.

9. Bake at 400F for 8-10 minutes. I brushed them with melted butter after 8 minutes and put them back in, to enhance the browning of the tops.

For Aunt Miriam

Hey, how you doin'? My Aunt Miriam asked if she could see my room. So I got the staff to take some pictures. Here I am, welcoming you to my pad.


This is where I get my diaper changed, my clothes changed, my sheets changed, and where I take my naps. Sometimes I play in here, but not that often.

This is a wider shot of my room. As you can see, we don't have a theme or anything. My parents said the theme is "no theme." They're kind of killjoys like that.

Here's my changing table. This is where I keep the wipe-box (my favorite diaper-time toy) and my shoes, jacket, and some other stuff. Aunt Miriam made the cross-stitched pictures that hang above my head.

It's a good thing, too, because they're the only things on the wall that belong to me. Otherwise, it's all Mommy, Mommy, Mommy. That's Mommy's book about European royal dynasties on the table, for example. And almost all the books in the bookshelf are hers, too. She needs to butt out of my room!

So that's my place. You like?

List

So far today:
1. Made rolls.
2. Thoroughly dirtied kitchen.
3. Fed Iain, bathed Iain, changed 2 poopy diapers and three sets of his clothes.
4. Made coffee for Charles.
5. Fed dogs.
6. Graded one paper.
7. Deleted an email from "US DEPARTMENT OF STATE" that originated in a gmail account.
8. Watered plants.

Whew. And yet, it all seems pretty insignificant.

To-Do

Over at Cool and Hip I Am Not, Heather lists what she's got to do. It looks daunting.

So here's my list:
1. Laundry
2. Change sheets
3. Yeast rolls
4. Grade 10 papers
5. Complete Narrative section on at least one of the three parts of my 3rd year review.
6. Write letter of recommendation for Jesse.
7. Write one thank-you note.
8. Write one page (at least!) in Chapter 4.1
9. Wipe down one surface
10. Clean one appliance (toaster, microwave, oven, fridge, washer, dryer, coffee-maker)

So far:
1. Took Iain to the doctor (flu booster)
2. Checked email
3. Blogged
4. Fed dogs
5. Fed Iain (twice? three times?)
6. Made Broccoli baby food.
7. Grocery/Liquor Barn
8. Found yeast roll recipe
9. Completed listing portion of 3rd year review.
10. Watered plants
11. Unloaded dishwasher.
12. Mailed 2 thank-you notes and one totally unnecessary W-9 form.
13. Did a little dance of joy at the news of Ben's birth.

I just want a cup of tea, now. I should stress that I like a to-do list to be ridiculously ambitious. I won't get half of that done, but that's ok. You gotta have dreams.

[Edit: 6:48pm: what I changed to blue I got done. Not much, except that I did the entire narrative, not just one part. So that's something.]

FAN-Tastic!!

Welcome! Benjamin Tobias arrived today to our friends Fru and Natalia. At 6lbs, 12oz., his dad says he's more Mom's baby than Dad's, but from our perspective that's a good thing (for Mom).

Everyone out there in the Land of Rain sounds delirious, and here at Casa Iain we're thrilled. With Iain, Brando and Asher, this makes almost enough for a late-night posse. Knowing the relative personalities involved, I'm going to predict that Brando and Ben will be the leaders of the pack, with Iain and Asher providing a voice of reason at 3am.

Oops

Somehow, I missed the fact that the last week was national baby wearing week. The cutest photo ever of Sweet Pea over at Mostly Natural Momma let me in on the news.

This year's baby wearing week mostly revolved around a controversial Motrin ad that suggested that women needed pain medication because wearing your baby hurts your back. Now, I'm a big fan of wearing your baby. We have the Bjorn, the Moby wrap, and our Zolo wrap (in black!!).

But Iain weighs about 19 lbs, kids. So while I get it that Motrin's ad was kind of rude, and it certainly implied that moms are frivolous and mostly concerned with fashion...it does give me a backache to carry him around! He's heavy enough to be a real burden, and not yet old enough to hold himself up a bit (except for that one time coming down the stairs, when he was jostled and grabbed on like a rhesus monkey.).

Anyway, here's a nice middle ground: wearing your baby is fun and convenient. I don't know if it will produce a little Rhodes scholar, but it can't hurt. There are a lot of options for wearing your baby, and I find that all of them are pretty good, with some better for some things (ie, as Momma points out over at MNM, the Bjorn is more manly, and as I would add: the Moby wrap is warmer, so that's good right now but was bad in August.).

Baby wearing might give you a backache. On the other hand, with everything you have to do once you have a baby, who notices a back ache? Just don't take Motrin, whatever you do.

Oh, Hai

Well, hello there, ladies. How you doin'?


Come closer. Closer. That's nice. Guess what?

I pee'd my pants.

Great Idea

This year, lots of people intend to abandon the traditional Christmas gift-giving ritual. But everyone loves a present.

So some folks are finding creative ways to preserve the pleasure of Christmas gifts without the expense and consumerism. One example is the Mother Letter Project. It's an effort to collect letters from mothers to mothers as a gift for one mother. I love this idea, and I contributed a letter.

Mine said:

Dear Mother,

You're doing great.

Fiona

That's it. Because the worst thing (I think) about being a parent is the constant stream of self-doubt/criticism.

Hat tip to Sarah at Oakbriar Farm for this one - thanks, Hub!

Such a Big Boy

Help! Rescue me from this maniac!

Iain's sitting on the floor, alternately mouthing his precious Breakstone cottage cheese container, laughing at Juno, and sucking on his bottle.

Wait...what?

This is today's new thing. He was sitting up in his chair, leaning forward and playing with the bottle. That freaked me out. So I put him on the floor with the bottle so that if he tipped forward he wouldn't fall and break his neck.

He drank a little, then put the bottle down and picked up a toy. Then he drank a little more. Then he put the bottle inside one of his paper boxes and played with a different toy. In other words: he's treating that bottle like a nice glass of wine you drink slowly while you relax with the day's mail. Flip through a catalogue - sip - pet your dog - sip - check out the headlines - sip.

It's just amazing the difference a few weeks make.

Meanwhile, poor Daddy is upstairs, passed out from Dramamine. He's got a stomach bug. All good wishes are welcome, as he is having a Very Bad Day.

P.S. Whenever Juno huffs and puffs (that half-bark dogs make when someone drives by), Iain laughs like a loon. I wonder if he thinks she's talking to him?

A New Toy for Iain, and one for Mommy too

Iain has a new toy! Look, packing materials:

Newsprint makes a fun noise when you thrash it about:

What? No one's using it. If I could get in this box, I would. Just sayin'

Oooo...what's this?

Well that would be Mommy's new fig tree, courtesy of Aunt Miriam! It's a black mission fig, which is code for CrackCrackCrack!!! Mommy's a tad excited. Aunt Miriam also sent a beautiful pair of flowering plants to liven up Mommy's winter houseplants.

Nice work, Aunt Miriam!

Rrringg!!!

The phone rang yesterday, and who could it be? The Milton-Keynes contingent! Joy!

We caught up on some juicy happenings ("he said what? I hope they paid you off bigtime!") and interesting developments ("Aunt Sandra's at Blenheim, now? Wonderful!"). There was bad news, too ("I can't be as mean to the local dealers, because they're all hurting." That's just sad - Tony's favorite* part of his job was yelling at local dealers).

Mostly, it was lovely to catch up. They're thinking of coming for a wee visit, and with the exchange rate so much better (but I'm not bitter!), we're thinking of going back for a wee visit as well. Too bad they didn't get that 6BR house, though. We'd have Moved Right In.

Here's a bit of nostalgia, boys: us on the canal

And Bart and Me in Bath. Note Bart's Historical Hat. Davy Crockett would be so proud.

[EDIT: Whoops! Bart points out that we were at Woburn Abbey. True, true. I just can't keep track of all the fun stuff we did. The best thing was lowering ourselves out of that window at Oxford Castle. You know, just like Empress Mathilda in 1142. Remember that? Good times.]

[Ok, we didn't do that. But it would have been fun.]

* or, "favourite" if you prefer.

Fingers Crossed

Any minute, Natalia - you'll be a threesome! We can hardly wait and you know we've got our fingers crossed for you.

.

Come on, baby! Come on, baby!

Fun with Appetizers

Last night, we joined friends for dinner. It was great fun, especially because everyone brought something and many of the somethings were delicious. For instance: broccoli casserole, baked sweet potatoes (with crumbly brown-sugar top *and* marshmallows), banana bread, pumpkin cheesecake, and pumpkin-cheesecake-chocolate brownies (!). Our hostess made turkey, stuffing, green beans, and mashed potatoes.

I brought appetizers, and since our little dinner strained the available silverware, I brought some knives for the cheese. The knives came from this lovely set passed on to me by my parents.


One member of our party enjoyed the appetizers more than most. Check out those cheeks - talk about storing nuts for winter!

Here's the spread: a platter with sliced bell pepper, cherry tomatoes and carrots. A platter with 5 or 6 different kinds of olive (on a piece of pottery given to us by Mary Ellen for our wedding - thanks, ME!). A platter with a slice of Comte, a slice of Beemster (aged gouda), a slice of Camambert, and a slice of St. Andre plus mozzorella balls and proscuitto. Some crackers in the bowl went with that, as did the little bowl of almonds. Over on the right, a bit hard to see, were little hot Italian peppers in a bowl. Finally, a platter with seedless globe grapes, clementines, and dried candied pineapple. In the other room, there were chips with salsa and chocolate pretzels.

I should have photographed the dinner table, but by then I was busy anticipating the eating. Let's just say that when you rub a turkey with a mixture of butter, sage, garlic and salt you can't go wrong.

Playing with Dad

We were playing. I found myself upside-down. How did that happen?

Apple Pie for People Who Like a Little Spice

This morning I made an apple pie. Since it's that season, I figured the recipe might be of interest to a few people, so here's how I do it.





First, you should know that in an apple pie I'm looking for a very spicy, flavorful filling and for apples that aren't smushy and for an interior product that does not slop around once the pie is cut. If you like apple pie to taste like pure apple, this is not for you. Ditto apple pie soup.

Ingredients:
For the streusel:
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup butter (soft-ish. I cut it into little chunks)

For the pie:
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
2 Tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoons cinnamon, nutmeg
1/8 teaspoons ginger, allspice (but let's be real: I add however much I like, which is usually a lot of cinnamon, some allspice, and a quarter of a nutmeg grated in my microplane grater. I don't add ginger because Charles doesn't like it)
2 teaspoons grated orange peel
2 Tablespoons orange juice
7 or 8 apples, peeled, cored, sliced (I use a crunchy, sweet apple, not a tart apple. We prefer Fuji, but I've also used braeburns. Down with the Granny Smith apple.)
1 pastry shell (do what you want. I buy Pillsbury, although after the third iteration of their crust not un-rolling, I'm starting to get pissed)

Directions:
Make the streusel by mixing the ingredients. Rub the butter in with your fingers. Add some cinnamon if you like. I do, because you can't have enough cinnamon. This will make a gross kind of paste. Wipe your hands off and set it aside.

Put your pastry into your pie pan. I like a Pyrex pie pan, partly because I can see inside and partly because it was a gift from my father-in-law many years ago and it's insanely useful.

Preheat the oven to 425 F. (yes, 425. Hot.)

Take out your big, heavy skillet. Heat it to medium (set on stove, turn on heat, wait 3 or 4 minutes). Then add everything on the list up to the apples. That would be: sugars, flour, spices, orange zest and juice. Let it melt/dissolve (it sort of does both, since some dissolves into the liquid and as the mixture heats some melts). Once it's looking like a yummy, spicy, caramel-y sauce (like 2 minutes, max), add the apple slices (no, I didn't toss them with lemon juice. They're going to be coated in brown caramel so if they brown a little no one will know). Stir it all up so that the sauce is thickening and the apple slices are coated.

Transfer all that goo into the pie dish. Cover the top with the streusel. It won't seem like enough, but just distribute it around as best you can. Don't worry that it doesn't cover the top. I said relax.

Bake at 425 for 10 minutes. If you have a crust-cover thingy, put it on after 10 minutes. Lower the heat to 350 and bake another 40-50 minutes. Check it and see how brown the top is. If you think it looks taste, take it out. Let it cool before you cut into it, both because this will help the sauce thicken more and because you'll burn your fool mouth.

Enjoy.


NB: this recipe is intended to solve 2 problems:
1. The fact that apple pie is often kind of bland. This recipe uses a lot of spice. The whole idea is that the pie will taste sweeter and more exotic than applesauce. So you can add or subtract spice as you like. I often add more, if it's just for us or if we're eating vanilla ice cream with it. I've occasionally added less and made cinnamon ice cream. Obviously, if you like ginger, go crazy. You could also try something like cardamom.

Finally, you can buy things like cinnamon from Penzey's in bulk. Buying in bulk means the spice comes in a plastic bag (not a jar) and you're paying mostly for the product, not the container. When you buy cinnamon in quantities like 6 ounces, you can use more without worrying about it.

2. I hate it when apple-pie filling slumps into the middle of the pan after you cut out a piece. If you like that, you'll find this recipe too gooey/solid. The point of sauteeing the filling first is to start the thickening process (the thickener is the 2T of AP flour) so that by the time the pie is baking, the filling is already thick.

Thus, the streusel top is dual-purpose. It adds sugar and spice, but it also leaves holes through which water can evaporate. With a pie-crust top you'll keep a lot of moisture in, which will mean a wetter pie. I want the liquid to bubble and bubble as it bakes, so that by the end it's concentrated. Hence, streusel.

[EDIT: do not put foil on the top until the pie is *completely* cooled, or your streusel will turn into yucky goo. Take it from me.]

Nature

Yesterday, while taking Iain's picture, he discovered my clivia. It's a houseplant that was very popular with the Victorians, but isn't so common today. We had them growing in the shade (they love shade) outside our house in California, so I bought one for a houseplant when we moved here. It has never bloomed (a shame, because the flowers are lovely - like small lilies), but it's healthy enough.


Iain was very interested.

He liked the feel of the leaves, and wanted to squish them in his paws. Obviously, I had to put a stop to that, but perhaps gardening will be a mother-son activity in the spring.

P.S.: Nice T-shirt, Patty!

It's a Thanksgiving Miracle

5:58: A bit of crying coming from Iain's room. Intermittent.
5:58: Mommy thinks, "maybe he'll go back to sleep." He's never gone back to sleep before.
5:59: He goes back to sleep.
6:00 Mommy goes back to sleep.
7:58: Iain wakes up for good.
8:00: Mommy can't believe she actually slept until 8 o'clock. Mommy is happy.

In Case You're Still Shopping

Ca. 1870.

RIP Vomit Cannon

Sometime in the last 2 weeks, the spit up ceased.

Thank you, FSM. Thank you.

Of course, the diaper cannon continues unabated. Stronger, even (if such a thing is possible).

FoodGawker

For anyone who enjoys food blogs, but who does not have ten years to spend looking at every one and trolling the blogrolls, there's FoodGawker.

It's great if you're just looking for a little inspiration, too. The site works from a wiki model. That is, it's user-generated/modified. People create little baseball-cards with a photo and description. Each one is for a recipe from a foodblog. So the page shows a series of these cards laid out for your delectation. Soups, cookies, how-to's, bread, you name it. People submit new things every day, so each day the site offers you ten or twenty new links.

Click on one that interests you, and suddenly you're reading a review of a cupcake store in Seattle, or watching someone make home-made shredded coconut, or drooling over caramel cake.

It's fun, and a good place to go for ideas that range from ridiculously complex (in some cases impossible in this hemisphere) to utterly effortless.

Oh Noes!

The Daily Mail is a British tabloid. It's the kind of paper that likes a good murder ("Cannibis-smoking schizophrenic butchered his gran on Christmas Day after wishing her a 'merry Christmas'") or a nice UFO ("Helicoptor in dramatic near-miss with 'sinister' UFO 1,500 ft. above Birmingham").

So you can see why I took it very seriously when the DM reported that babies who sit in front-facing strollers are destined for a life of misery. According to the researcher at University of Dundee whom they quote, "Our data suggests [sic] that for many babies, life in a buggy is emotionally impoverished and possibly stressful. Stressed babies grow into anxious adults."

The theory is that when the baby faces you, he gets to listen to you, see you, etc. When he faces out, he has only the entire world to look at. Poor baby - no stimulation. Should we re-think the BOB? Is Iain going to grow up to be anxious because he had to look at nature instead of watching me tromp along? There's so much to worry about.

Gotta go. The DM is reporting that popstar Katy Perry dressed as a "sexy senorita" for a gig. Once I read that, though, it's back to boycotting the DM for what they did to Russell Brand. Have no fear, Tony: I still hate them the most.

3-2-1 Cognition!

This morning, Iain demonstrated another cognitive breakthrough. I gave him his monkey and a book (I'm guessing you can tell which is which in these pictures), and set him down so I could take care of some things.

.

Next thing I know, he's holding them, one after the other, and shaking them up and down. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but the book makes rattling noises (due to those little pyramids in the cover) and the monkey has a bell inside.

.

So Iain figured out that each item makes a noise. He then figured out that he could trigger that noise by moving them up and down. He then experimented with each toy in turn.

.

That, my friends, is thinking.

.

Next stop: calculus.

.

[Note: I set him down on the floor in another room. These pictures are posed. In other words: no, I don't set him down on the dining room table and walk away.]

Better Than the French Laundry

Lily's Cafe.

Poindexter

Hi. I heard Yale and Harvard are playing football this weekend. I'm ready for the big game. Can't you tell?