Go, Funny Cide?

Another two pounds gone. Into the ether. Bye-bye, fat! Now, only a few more to go…

August and I had a great visit today from Shelly and Cole, who are visiting the area from San Francisco. Cole is such a cutie, and was grinning before he even walked in the door! I totally love outgoing babies, especially considering that Auggie can be such a shy-guy.

Shelly is such a natural mother too. There was a very surreal moment when we took turns reading “Elmo’s Mother Goose” to the boys while we waited for our lunch to finish cooking. Surreal because we first met when we were both carefree college grads, and now we’re both full-time mommies. That’s kind of a long way to go. But Shelly carries it all with her sharp wit and grace. Cole’s a lucky guy. (Not to mention Chris, her husband and my old roommate). Here’s hoping she survives the long week and even longer flight back to CA without her partner in parenting crime.

Funny moment from today: One of my friends called to ask if we might want to go to Saturday’s late afternoon Cards game with her and her family, so I told her I’d talk to Tim about it and I’d get back to her. My main concern was that we needed to have Auggie at the babysitter’s by 6, since we’re going to see the Flaming Lips at the Pageant later that night. Over dinner, I mention the game to Tim and ask if he thought we could pull it off.


‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, a little taken-aback by his immediate refusal.

‘There’s no way I’m missing Funny Cide winning the Triple Crown at the Belmont on Saturday afternoon,’ he returned.

‘Oh. Sorry. I totally forgot.’ And then I called Susan with our regrets. Silly me.

Go, Funny Cide! I guess. I’m rather resigned that he is going to win the Triple Crown, mainly because I don’t really have strong feelings one way or the other. On the one hand, I love that his connections are longtime friends that bought him as a wee colt for only $75K. On the other hand, I hate his name more than any other Kentucky Derby winner that I’ve seen. Even more than Fusaichi Pegasus (who I still cashed on, despite his poor name).

I mean, c’mon! Silver Charm, Real Quiet, Charismatic, War Emblem? If these amazing horses, with their equally inspirational names, couldn’t do it, can Funny Cide?

Sigh. Probably.

And that’s what I’m reduced to, folks. Rooting against a Triple Crown winner because I hate his name.