Hey batta batta batta

I've written about Dominic's first fantasy football draft, curse of the bambino and seventh-inning stretch. Now the kid's learned to heckle. And I mean, HECKLE. Like a fan drunk on cheap beer, leaning over the rail and calling the ump Mr. Magoo.

Twenty ten

On New Year’s Eve I watched the ball drop on television. That’s right, I stayed up past midnight y’all. I didn’t plan such wild and crazy behavior. But then the baby wouldn’t settle until I brought him downstairs by the fire. And then the toddler woke up and puked all over herself. So there I found myself during the last minutes of 2009 doing laundry way past my normal bedtime and convincing Gabriella to switch the channel from Noggin to Times Square FOR JUST TWO SECONDS, DAMMIT!

Seventh-inning stretch

Dominic claps on command. He stretches on command too. And it’s not just his arms, it’s his legs, it’s his back, it’s his finger and toes. I cannot get over the fact that his first words are clapping and stretching. Most kids start with mama or dada. This kid is starting with bloody Sweet Caroline at Fenway Park.