jennanddave.com

Dave's parents came up for a visit on Friday. I can't speak for them, but the flurry of activity that has been the last two days has pretty much knocked everyone here off of their feet. Henry is zonked out upstairs and I'm about to hit the couch. How did this happen? It could be one of many things: marching around the house with drums and brooms while blasting "McNamara's Band"; running around outside; running around inside; going to Karen's house for a barbecue (where there was also lots of running around outside and in, not to mention really good food. Karen made killer burgers. I'm thinking of going over tonight and demanding more. Not that I've been at all invited.); planting potatoes; blowing bubbles; eating lots of pancakes; making play-doh spaghetti; etc.; etc. It was a great weekend.

Regarding my last post, I think it only fair to tell you that my dad, who also went to see Harry Belafonte, insists that the song he was referring to was not "Jamaica Farewell", but instead was "Day-o". I'm not sure I believe him. On the one hand, I remember feeling sad that it was "Jamaica Farewell" because it's one of my favorite songs, and I could probably convince myself that we had a conversation about it during the car ride home during which I could have declared "You'd think it would be 'Day-o' that he didn't like." Plus, my dad doesn't have a great track record for remember things, like, for instance, his high school graduation, or how old I am. On the other hand, he's like a sponge when it comes to soaking up useless information, so he could very well be right. Anyway, I felt compelled to publicly admit I could be wrong about the specifics of the whole Harry Belafonte analogy. Emphasis on "could be".