Wuv, twue wuv

QUICKIE: Today Vincenzo held up one hand to count the fingers on it. He pointed to each one and somehow got 8. The frightening thing is he didn’t even count the pinky.
Kevin and I just got back from a fabulous weekend celebrating our fifth anniversary. And while we had a marvelous time, that doesn’t mean it came without quirks.

We left a detailed note for Aunt Jeanette, who watched Vincenzo overnight. It told her to make sure Vincenzo’s food bowl was full and to keep Clyde the cat off the Internets, as he has a habit of blocking their tubes. (A little nod to my Lolcatz fans.)

As our bus pulled into downtown Seattle, we were greeted by dozens of bikers in various stages of nudity. For a minute I thought we had made a wrong turn and were in Fremont. No one seemed to have any idea why the nude bikers were in Seattle, though Kevin guessed they were protesting something. Yeah, like maybe clothes.

Then, when we went to check into our hotel, Kevin’s friend from New York *randomly* showed up with his own room key in hand. They made a big show of, “Hey, what a coincidence!” and, “What are the chances?” but when Kevin headed to the bar with his friend while I headed upstairs with our bags, it felt like a little more than just a coincidence. No worries. I found that champagne and strawberries are just as enjoyable when you eat them alone as when you eat them with your husband.

On the Pike Place food tour today, we learned that eggplants have sex (meaning gender, not the kind you were thinking), and you can identify their gender by looking at what we discreetly called their “belly buttons.” Later on the tour, an unfortunate series of events resulted in a kid eating some chips I had licked the salsa off of. His dad was the only one laughing harder than we were trying not to.

As we rode the bus home, I kept thinking how people are so much cooler in Seattle than on the Eastside. There were girls pulling off leg warmers like it was 1982; guys with earrings that formed nickel-sized holes in their ear lobes; a man earning money by solving Rubix cubes; another by claiming he was the Cat Whisperer. (FYI never mention to him how sweet his cat is to sit there all day. It seems to be the on-switch for his otherwise repressed anger.) The minute the bus crossed the Seattle-Bellevue border, everyone on the bus immediately seemed so ordinary. And it made me wonder: When people from Seattle come to Kirkland, are they just as fascinated by our Abercrombie sweat suits and lemonade stands? Maybe not.

Yeah, uh, don’t be surprised to see a string of “grilled cheese” dinners this week. I blew a good chunk of our grocery money on a set of Superhero salad tongs, one of which has boobs. Stay tuned for pics.

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