John, Marcos, & Hank
Here is The John enjoying a Super Bowl party with his two newest friend additions. They are the twins of my former student, Katya, who is now my newest friend addition. It's too bad that they live WAY out in the suburbs.
Their mother is gorgeous (as you can see), and she is from Nicaragua. Their father is a bald (as you can see) American, and he lives vicariously through the twins with all of their long, beautiful, curly hair. They handle it very well when people refer to Marcos & Hank as girls, despite their dump truck shirts and whatnot.
Shawn & Katya
We enjoyed the Super Bowl at their house. Four doors down from them was a block party where I entered my white bean chili in a cook off and won "Taster's Choice Runner Up." The prize was a black fleece afgan with red embroidery: "Third Annual Cardarella Super Bowl Party." It was really a joint cooking effort that (obviously) turned out well despite the fact that I forgot to bring the recipe to their house (where the cooking was being done), and Baldy up there forgot to soak the beans overnight. So, we left the afgan with them.
I'm not going to be too smug about the win, since I shamelessly went around to guests at the party saying, "Have you tried that white chili? It's phenomenal! Something about those cumin-infused navy beans! Mmmm mmm."
Shortly after my campaigning ended, Katya, the boys, and I left because I had an ugly encounter with the host of the party, who had provided whistles for all the kids (and there were LOTS of them) but had a strict rule about actually blowing the whistles. That's just not good planning.
The next day John came down with The Worst Cold in the History of Mankind, and I'm sure it's from whistle sharing. Coincidentally, he had a doc's appointment yesterday for his worsening SNORING problem, so while they were there, a confirmation was made of viral infection and assurance was given that it's not yet in the ears or chest. We also got confirmation (true to Mama's flashlight-in-the-mouth diagnosis) that his tonsils are gigantic and warrant closer inspection (and possibly removal) by a pediatric ENT. Our appointment is in June.
In other news, we -- so thankfully -- had no damage from the bad weather. In fact, we rode it out in the basement of our across-the-street neighbors, Bob & Betty. We woke up The Goose to take him over there, foolishly thinking that he might stay asleep during the treacherous crossing of the street with heavy winds. I had drugged him up with Tylenol hoping for a peaceful night of sleep (he did had fever), so he actually did snooze a little when we first got there. But shortly thereafter he popped his head up and announced that Betty probably had a sandwich for him.
This was a trick. Because then I said, "Oh, are you hungry? OK, let's go upstairs and see if Betty has a snack." Not knowing that he is fully aware Betty keeps ICE CREAM SANDWICHES in the freezer at all times. Betty also keeps cran-raspberry juice, a TV in every room on different channels, and a yip-yap dog. But no valium. Trust me: with that combination of events, I was looking.
At about 10:30 p.m., we came back home and I completely fell apart. John was crashing from his sugar high, I was exhausted, and there was another line of t-storms on the way. So Brian quieted John, rubbed my back until I fell asleep, and then stayed up half the night watching and waiting, allowing his roommates to sleep peacefully.
And that's why I am married to him. Not sure why he's still in on the deal.
As always, onward, upward, and sideways,
K (frau, mutti)
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