was Henry, for sure, and I'm not taking credit for any of it (well, maybe I did give him an x chromosome). Placentia, California is in Orange County, or
behind the Orange Curtain, as those of us in Los Angeles like to say. The name
Placentia begs for metaphor, but I'm hard-pressed to come up with any. Richard Nixon's presidential library is right around the corner, so you can imagine what sort of metaphors I would come up with if I wasn't so damn tired from the drive and the heat and the dryness. I know that in some cultures women will eat the placenta after birth, and a good friend told me today that some Hollywood celebrities are doing just that.
More power to them, I said, through my cracked lips. Placentia was very hot today and very dry. Did I already tell you that? My lips were honestly so chapped that you could have filed your nails on them. They went beautifully with my usual sharp tongue. How's that for metaphor? Henry's team played very well and won their first game. For some reason, I missed him scoring his first goal of the season (he generally plays defense and rarely is in a position to score) which I'm going to chalk up to a placential daze. They lost the second game to a group of rowdy, dirty-playing boys from the desert. When we left Placentia in the late afternoon, Henry lifted up his arms and showed me the rings of white salt under his arms. That's when I pressed the pedal to the metal of my sexy Mazda and got the hell out of Dodge.
Ohhhh, handsome indeed.
ReplyDeleteAnd on another note: whenever I start writing my comments here, the screen starts to jiggle and shake and flip up and down. Honest to god. Only happens here, on your blog. Sometimes it shakes the comment clean away. I can't make sense of it.
Matinee idol there. Honestly he just gets more and more handsome. (And what T said above happens to me too. I usually have to enter my comment twice here. But only here. It's been that way for a long time. The second time is the charm.)
ReplyDeleteHonestly, you have set the bar way too low. Henry may be the best-looking thing in all of California.
ReplyDeleteAnd yeah, that comment thing happens to me too.
yes, for me with the comments. they often disappear and I write them again. Only here.
ReplyDeleteYour boy is indeed the best looking thing! You are such a good mom, doing for each of the kids exactly what they need.
I was innocently reading along, enjoying this post and the last line did me in. For some reason it was my favorite. I have no doubt Henry was indeed the best looking thing you saw yesterday. And yep - I'll fifth the comment thing - just on this blog. I think it is something that is loading like an add or the like that we don't realize is still loading when we start typing. I've learned to be very very careful when commenting here :)
ReplyDeleteThis brings back memories of a soccer tournament in a sandstorm in Riverside. There was a cheap motel with plaster in the bathtub involved, too. Lotsa miles on the odometer since then.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely beautiful in the classical sense...two thousand years ago he would have been a sculptor's prized muse!
ReplyDeleteEeewww, for the salt rings beneath his arms. Yay that he scored a goal. I do love me some lacrosse (although since I have a daughter, it isn't nearly as rough and rowdy so I don't have to cringe as I suspect many parents of boys do). I loved your metaphors and have to agree with the other folks about the odd comment phenomenon. I generally chalk it up to the Universe making sure I am saying what I really want to say (erasing my first attempt and forcing me to try again). A cosmic editor if you will.
ReplyDelete