March 24th, 2008


Because yesterday was Easter, it was a somewhat bunny-full day. The E.B., as he is fondly known around here, always puts a stuffed rabbit in Syd’s and T.R.’s baskets. He also likes to leave action figures. Both Brent and Syd thought there might be some implication to the fact that they got a Starbucks employee and an obsessive-compulsive, respectively. T.R. just liked Einstein’s funny hair.

I bribed the kids into going to church with me with the promise of dim sum. I was forced to renege on the deal, however, as Jade Villa apparently has been sold to someone else who thinks that 11 is an appropriate time to open. This was not okay with the people who went to the 8 o’clock service. We ended up at Westside Café in Berkeley, where we had a very nice, but not at all Chinese, breakfast while reading the horoscopes in The Onion.

Brent helped out the E.B. by hiding the eggs while we were gone. T.R. gleefully found them all. Next year, he is considering helping out the E.B. himself and having we “adults” look for them. Sounds like a plan.

Having foolishly decided to make a wonderful dinner of braised leg of lamb, I had to make sure it got into the oven in time to allow for the more than three hour cooking time. It turned out delicious, but how could you go wrong with a bottle of wine, a bunch of thyme, and three heads of garlic? The white beans with spinach and tomatoes were quick to make and I had baked the bread pudding on Saturday, so I ended up with plenty of time to hang out.

Well, between sword-fights, anyway. The neighbors who can’t see into our backyard must think we’re evil; the ones who can know we’re just crazy. My initial deal with T.R. was that we’d fight until I was dead. I apparently died too quickly, so I had to come back as a zombie knight with a total disregard for losing limbs. Once I imitated Troilus, heading off into the Trojan War dejected at Criseyde’s betrayal, intending to die valiantly of a broken heart and sundry flesh wounds, but I ended up monologuing my opponent to death instead.

During the hanging out portion of the show, I dealt with some of the things that had been hanging out themselves in my email inbox. One of them was asking Brent for help with some old bunny stories I made for Syd when he was two or three. Because Brent is a genius and very nice, you can now look at them here.

N.B. Tattamungatails are, according to the small Syd, baby rabbits. The origin of the word is a Mondegreen from a WWII era version of "Turkey in the Straw" as played by Rick's 1938 Wurlitzer jukebox.