Musings from some former inhabitants of the sprawling metropolis that is Prudhomme City

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Super Saturday!

So yesterday was a great day for me. First, I got a call from Ted asking me to come over and babysit the boys for a couple of hours while he went to run an errand. When I walked in, Gabe leaped into my arms exclaiming, "I want a kiss, Nanny Kate!" It was so sweet that I found myself thinking, Oooohhhh, I want a baby! I love this! Forty-five minutes later when Gabe was pummeling Sam for "making him" fall off of his bike, I was thinking, I must never, ever have one of these! But we had a good time, all pummeling aside. I got schooled by John. After informing him that he had to go back in the house and put on shoes, his reply was "DON'T fuss at me, Nanny Kate!" I obviously have a real way with three-year-olds. Also, Max and I played a lot of Hyper Dash, which caused me to wheeze and groan and nearly pass out, and I think I pulled a hammy. The most hilarious part of the day was when Sammy told me, "Thanks again for getting me that LSU hat, Nanny Kate!" Max, the oldest and wisest of the little man clan (Thanks, B Daigle, for that new moniker!), solemnly looked into my eyes and stated, "He's a disgrace to the family, Nanny Kate." Inside I was chortling and high-fiving him, but in reality, I did the right thing and made various mouth noises about being free to support any team you'd like, yada-yada. I was pretty proud of myself for that.

Later in the day, Alex and I hit the Cajundome to watch the Cajuns take on the FAU Owls. The mayor and first lady graced the Dome with their presence, as well. As I have mentioned before, my lovely parental unit purchased a pair of season tickets for Alex and me, and the seats are right next to theirs. (Thanks again, Dad and Mom!) We had a blast watching the Cajuns kick some serious Owl *ss and winning the game by nineteen points.

Cajuns on offense

Coach Lee drawing up the game plan

And I indulged in a couple of tasty beverages that make up a good ninety percent of why I love going to Cajun basketball games.!

After the game, the mayor and first lady suggested that we continue our little party. "Where do y'all want to go eat?" the mayor asked. "DEANO'S!" I yelled out before anyone else could get a word in edgewise. Since the mayor tends to indulge me, he didn't even take any other suggestions and off we went. At Deano's, we had to wait a bit, so Byron and I (okay, mostly I) ended up screaming at the TV cheering on the Giants who, at that point, were beating the Patriots. I must admit that yelling out "Shut it, Vrabel!" in a crowded restaurant does tend to draw a few stares. I really don't have a beef with the Patriots, just Tom Brady. Why, you ask? Well, two years ago Brady was my fantasy football team's QB. I just needed to win that game, and I'd have been in the playoffs. All he had to do was get the same average number of points, like 18 or 19, that he'd been coughing up without fail all season long. That douchebag had the worst game of the season and only got 2.5 points and kept me out of the playoffs. The next week, he scored 35 points. I almost bought an airline ticket, so I could personally punch him in the face. (What? Okay, so I take fantasy football a little too seriously. Is that so wrong?) Anyway, that's my beef with Brady, and it doesn't matter anyway because no matter how much I tried to put a hex on the Patriots last night, they still ended up winning the game and making history by going 16-0, blah-blah-blah. Whatever. I still hate Tommy, even though he looked freakin' smokin' hot(!!) in that three-piece suit at the post-game press conference. Where was I? Oh yeah, Deano's! This place has the best- hands down, no contest- pizza in Lafayette. We scarfed down a big ol' sampler with Marie LeVeau, Cajun Canaille, Mufaletta Pie (add anchovies for Dad), and BBQ chicken. It was yummy, yummy, yummy! Love that place! And Mom and I polished off a pitcher of Killian's Red (mmmmmm, beer) together. The best part was the conversation, though. I found out that Dad was a soda jerk and a pharmacy delivery boy in his youth. I never knew that! He claims he was the best delivery boy Church Point has ever known, setting land speed records on his bike. He earned eight dollars a week. He also told hilarious stories about C.P.'s straight-from-Italy movie theater owner and the raging knock-down, drag-out fights the guy and his wife would have behind closed doors that could be heard all the way down the block.

And then Dad and Mom paid for the whole thing. Oh my God! Could my day have been any better? I think not. And then we went home, where I simultaneously cursed at and drooled over Tom Brady on TV, and then I stumbled off to bed, where I promptly became dead to the world... awesome!

Note: Yesterday, B Daigle left a comment stating that the mayor and first lady's place should be referred to as Daigle Manor, as coined by himself and Byron circa 1994, and that Melissa's nickname is spelled Sista, not Sistah (my bad!) and that it was Aimee and Charlie who gave the little man clan (love that!) the coonskin caps for Christmas and not himself and Sista. So...apparently, I have an editor, people! Holla!

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