no sweat

It was another eventful weekend for The Ben. The weather here in Chi-town slanted just a wee bit to the absolutely hellishly-hot side of normal, but that didn’t stop anyone in this family from making a good time of it. The Ben didn’t seem to approve of the thermometer readings apparently, as he spent the better part of those three blistering days puking all over his clothes. And while he might not have minded constantly changing into another adorable outfit bequeathed to him by one of his loving friends or relatives, mommy and daddy’s summer wardrobe wasn’t quite so deep. It got to the point where it was better to just leave the boy lying around naked with a burp-cloth [or five], which I’ve come to realize must have been the sweaty little guy’s motive all along.

Sunday, The Ben made an appearance at Bar Louie in Bucktown with his parents and their friends Sean and Lauren, none of whom bought the half-pint any beer. He did look a little drunk, however, passed-out and slumping-over in the pouch his mommy uses to carry him around town.

Sunday was also uncle Mark’s 18th birthday, which is scary because I still think of him as a little dude much like my Ben. I remember when Mark was Ben’s size, although I wonder sometime whether he will ever match Ben’s maturity. I keed, I keed.

At grandma and grandpa’s house, Uncle Dan decided that The Ben’s parents didn’t have nearly enough excitement or trauma in their lives, and so figured he’d help them out wherever he could. While grandma was rocking our little duder [who had been battling with the belly-gas monster all afternoon] to sleep outside in her wooden swing, an errant softball [Chicago-style: that’s 16 inches, folks] followed a path that originated in Dan’s hand and terminated at my sleeping son’s peaceful forehead. And because that shock wasn’t nearly enough, the simultaneous shrieks from a mother, grandmother, uncle and aunt [note: daddy is one cool mo-fo] riled The Ben into a frenzy that took ten minutes to calm. Now, before you all get excited and damn my brother to hell, take note that he was the most devastated of all, and he fully plans on paying for my son’s college education [that is if the boy doesn’t suffer from lingering headaches and memory loss]. No, no, no. . . our Ben is just fine. . . and now, after a really good night’s sleep, I’m beginning to think over introducing a softball into our bedtime routine ---- I KEED!