The Jonas Brothers are playing here at lunch. Never heard of them? Me neither, but that hardly matters to the hundreds of squealing teen girls parked outside my workplace who worship the musical brothers (and they have been here all night, weathering the morning rain) and it has me thinking:
I have said this before, but it has never rung more true: Gabriel and his friends need to start a boy band. Kiff and I could quit working and manage the band full time. To keep him pure and honest, we would institute daily prayer and feed him something in his milkshakes that would preserve him as a mysterious manchild who is always on the cusp of puberty.
We would rake in the dough and Gabriel would never grow up and leave home.
I am not sure what instrument he would play, but he is awfully engaged by the yamaha keyboard we got at a garage sale last summer. He has already written his first song, called "Hi! Batch..." (batch is his word for beach).
Saturday we had my mom's car and drove to Lake Erie where the sand is white and the water is shallow. Batch! said Gabriel. We held him as the waves lapped up to his waist; "Wow!" We stopped for strawberries "Mo'! Mo'!. We sang the ABC song over and over "yay!".
The next day we visited the super-cool Matt and Kate and Alice and wee Henry (Matt and I went to university together and I haven't seen him and Kate for more than 10 years). Gabriel took quite a shine to 5-year-old Alice who let him hug her and shared strawberries on the steps with him.
Monday we visited Gabriel's new daycare. We played with the other toddlers outside in the sandbox and on the swings. ThenGabriel pushed a girl against the wall and planted a big kiss on her lips just as the director of the daycare came out. After her repeated assurances that they do not expel toddlers for sexual harrassment, I breathed a sigh of relief.