The birthday express arrived from Elmhurst in the late afternoon for dinner and
cake. The princess wanting cheese
pierogi on her special day meant going to a Polish restaurant on Belmont Avenue. Me, I’d like beef tongue in carmelized gravy
like my mother used to make, but I digress.
I was saying something on
the drive home when Clare, the cutest little Borg with phone attached at the hand, interrupted from the back seat. “Breaking news, the Tigers have traded Prince
Fielder. Guess who they got.” I considered the likely choices for some
fifteen seconds before saying, “Ian Kinsler.”
For that Clare gave me
a “Way to go, Dad.” And the third person
in the car, both mother and wife, must have wondered, How did I end up with
these two?
On a possibly related
front, Clare also noted that the Orioles are monitoring the progress of White
Sox free agent pitcher Gavin (“I get the first fourteen guys out before giving
up five runs in the fifth”) Floyd, who is rehabbing from Tommy John
surgery. Talk about a birthday
wish. Go, Birds.
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