Discussing the creepiness of a large baby doll, with a full head of golden curls, in an ancient pram, with John and his friend Annika. "Mommy, who is she? She's kinda scary." We were waiting for the cake to be cut.
Discussing molecular genetics with a plant geneticist, a researcher with a large crop of peaches and grapes. He failed to remember the tour he gave me seven years ago, when I flew with Mike, his dad, and a family friend to visit the experimental research station in small-town Arkansas.
Discussing philosophy and China with a student of my stepmother-in-law's (anthropology and education) and her boyfriend, who is pursuing his Ph.D. in philosophy. I had some intelligent things to say on the subject, thanks to my good friend Christie, whose husband is a philosopher. They recently spent a few months in China.
Learning of yet another witticism of my daughter, from an observation of a good friend, while unintentionally blocking the chocolate-covered strawberries, looming under a beautiful indoor gas-lamp, in the historic Arkansas home in downtown Little Rock. Why wasn't there any soot on the ceiling, I wondered? And when do you, as a parent, cease to take any responsibility of the keen observations of your offspring? From day one, I think. Sicily is in a league of her own.
Cutting a rug. Literally. I have not enjoyed myself on the dance floor so much since a family cruise to Jamaica at the end of medical school. One of the groomsmen, whose dance moves I couldn't help but admire, pulled me aside. "Your daughter is the best dancer here. Where did she learn it from?" I replied, "Well, we sing show tunes at breakfast, and play scenes from our favorite movies over and over, dancing and singing in the evenings, but I can't take credit for that." Eventually, she pulled me into it. After about an hour and a half, I overheard her saying, "Daddy! Where's my daddy? I really need a drink!" She was fortified with Sprite, and continued until the end of the night. Slept until after nine the next day. John went home early to bed with our nanny, but I hadn't the heart to pull Sicily out of her element. She was a sight to behold; I lamented later that she had me so caught up in her ecstasy that I failed to pull out the video camera. I'm hoping the photographer got some good pics.
The wedding was fabulous. I hope Annie and Dave are having a wonderful time in Napa. The kids were just squirrely enough, in their duties as ring bearer and flower girl, to be cute without ruining the wedding. John kept trying to engage me, and I deflected it to my nanny in the audience; after all, I was in charge of the bride's bouquet and the bridal train. I was trying to pay attention to the ceremony. John was disturbed that the fake ring tied to the pillow Annie had made had come free from its string tether. Josephina helped him put it back on, which he proudly announced to me in a loud whisper, during the ceremony. Later, my mother observed that his smile, during the ceremony, was diabolical. He was trying to orchestrate chaos, sweetly. This does not portend well for the future.