Practically since Sage's birth, Dean and I have been reading to her. This is harder than it sounds, since she has an attention span of approximately half a minute, and also because bookstore salesladies tend to look at you cross-eyed when you ask them where the section for six-month-, fourteen-month-, or twenty-two-month-olds is located. Apparently no one is actually expected to read or be read to in this country until they're at least four.
Not our little girl, though. Not only does she now have a collection of books to rival those of many adults, today she picked up my novel, flipped to a page like she knew what she was looking for, and commenced reading aloud to me, eyes glued to the page as she did so. Of course, what she was saying by no means resembled English or any of the many languages I know how to cuss in. Regardless, she pretended to read, so I pretended to understand; and it was all good.
out in the weird world
What started out as a practical joke five years ago has evolved into an interesting Yuletide tradition in Birmingham, Alabama. Calling themselves 'the Naked Elves', a group of adult men entertained at nearly 30 apartments, restaurants, and homes this year, singing off-key carols while dressed in nothing but red boxer shorts, Santa hats, and light-up suspenders.
It began as a naughty serenade to the wife of Neal Phillips, one of the four original Naked Elves. Since then, the Elves have become something of a yearly holiday rage, garnering fans across two counties, and braving temperatures as low as 21 degrees Fahrenheit (-6 degrees Celsius!) to spread their slightly kinky cheer.
So how come nothing like this ever happened when I used to live in Alabama?