Holiday Hangover

I think I’ve finally recovered from all the so bad – but so good – food, gifts, gatherings and other stuff that makes the Christmas holiday such sheer chaos around here.

Mac enjoyed tearing the paper off his presents.  Although, that’s really all he seemed to care about.  The actual presents?  Ech.  He just wanted paper.  In fact, he seems to love the stuff.  Any chance he gets, he crumples it up in his tightly clenched fist.  This isn’t a problem until he starts attempting to eat it – which happens every blessed time. Then I have to attempt to pry the paper away. . .crying ensues.  It’s rather sad when you think about it:  I suck at out-smarting my seven month old son. 

I would love to go to the library and get him a few books since I think I will need to have my husband committed for a psychological evaluation if he has to read Brown Bear, Brown Bear one more time, but I’m afraid somehow Mac will manage to damage all of our selections with his paper obsession.

It’s not that he’s unsupervised with his books.  He’s just so damned fast.

The winner of the nearly no sew hat giveaway will be announced in my next post and I have plans to do some sewing in the next 2 weeks.  So hopefully, the “lucky” recipient is enjoying mild weather while I get my act together.

We have certainly been enjoying the weather. I’ve been doing a lot of walking and hiking with Mac.  Just the other day we were walking along the waterfront promenade, minding our own business, scouting shorebirds and encountered this:

There was a man walking towards us.  He was wearing large headphones and singing loudly.  I glance down and to the right.  Do not make eye contact.  Mac was sleeping and I didn’t need this potential lunatic getting him awake.  We had been walking a very long time and I was afraid Mac might awake wet and cranky.  Since I didn’t bring a diaper bag, I was in no position to allow that to happen.

To no avail.  Of course the ding-dong starts shouting at me.  He’s shouting because his head phones are so freaking loud, you could likely hear the music across the water at Fort McHenry.

“Oh I’m just listening to some Crosby, Stills, and Nash,” he shouts.  Not that I had asked, not that I would have needed to thanks to the volume.

“That’s nice,” I say barely breaking my stride.

He’s not going to let me get away is he?

“Neil Young is coming to Baltimore. It’s going to be an awesome show.  The tickets are like $70 bucks!” Shouts crazy fan man.

“Really?” I say as I attempt to convey the right mix of move on but not a complete brush of crazy fan man.  I scan the promenade for signs of a hidden camera prank or at least someone who might help extricate me from crazy.  I come up empty.

“Yeah, It’s going to be awesome!  It’s going to be great!”

I’m at a dead stop now.  He’s still shouting over that damned noise in his ears.  I smile politely.  “Have a happy new year.  Enjoy!”

“No really.  The tickets are going to sell out fast,” shouts Fan Man.

I’m about five long strides past him now but he’s not taking the hint.  He turns towards me again.  He’s wielding a Starbucks cup.  I knew Starbucks was a hotbed for insanity!  He practically looks homeless, where the hell did he get 5 dollars for a gingerbread latte, no whip?

“Hey, you’re a pretty lady.  Do you like Crosby Stills and Nash?”  Ok.  He’s not entirely crazy.  I am kinda pretty.  

“Yes, yes I do.”  Liar.

“I knew it!  Shouts Fan Man.  “I could tell you were a hippie.  I’ve seen Jerry Garcia 30 times.  No shit 30 times.”  I couldn’t be any less of a hippie.  He is crazy.

He’s gesticulating wildly now, ear phones still hissing, still on his ears.  Amazingly whatever is in that cup stays in the cup – which is likely Boone’s Farm or very very very cheap gin.

Equally amazing?  The kid is still asleep.

“Ok, well I have to be going now.  You have a great new year.” I say as I start walking again.

“Well hey, you know I have two kids and hold down a mortgage.  My wife just gave me the day off so I’m walking around enjoying some music.”  I’m sure your wife gave you the “day off.”  She probably just wanted you to shut the hell up and get out of the freaking house.  Heaven help her.

“That’s nice,” I say. I can’t believe I’m still talking to this guy.  What the hell is wrong with me?  I’m as nuts as he is.  Walk.  Now.

I do walk.  And as I’m walking I hear him shout, “Hey, be sure to tell all your hippie friends Neil Young is coming to Baltimore.”

Consider it done crazy Fan Man.  Consider it done.

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