Thanks to my wonderful husband, I’ve just returned from a delicious night out with a couple of other mommies from my playgroup. Without August.
We went to see My Big Fat Greek Wedding, which was pretty funny. A nice, light, airy, cheery movie with that guy who played the quirky DJ on “Northern Exposure.” (We don’t have cable, so I just remembered that he played Carrie’s fiance on “Sex in the City.”) Then we got some coffee at a local coffee shop. No big whoop. But I got to drive around, listening to my Beulah CD as loud as I wanted, singing along, not rushing. Very nice.
At the doc’s the other day, she asked if August was talking at all yet. I said that he says “Ma,” “Da,” and “bye,” but we weren’t really sure if he was saying “bye-bye” or what. (My mom contends that he is barking.) Anyway, she leaves and we’re waiting for the evil shot-administering nurse. We’re looking out the window at the parking lot below and a cab is driving away. Auggie sticks up his hand, waves and says, “bye.” Who knew? Has he done it since? Heck, no! Does Daddy believe this story? Heck, no!
So I’ve started reading this book called The Emperor of Ocean Park. I’ve heard really good things about it and I haven’t read a good thriller in a long time. So far, so good. I feel like the author is just kind of dropping little breadcrumbs of suspicion here and there. Half the time, I’m going, ‘What? Did I miss something?’ Then, within the next few chapters, I’ll be like, ‘Oh… Hm.’ I guess I’m just used to the Mary Higgins Clark-type story where you get the whole deal laid out in the first few chapters. I’m over 100 pages into this one and I still have no idea what is going on. But neither does the main character, so I don’t feel too dumb.