Because I am coming down with some sort of cold, I didn't walk to work like I usually do, I took the train. I do my best to avoid the subway because of the crazies, the noise, the perverts, and the constant invasion of space; however, this morning I was thoroughly entertained during my five minute ride. Allow me to share.

This kid in a stroller, who couldn't have been more than two years old, had this miniature Spongebob action figure in his hand. Clearly the little fella had an attachment to this thing, because I saw him hold it up, look longingly in the action figure's beady little eyes, and then throw it. The first time this happened, the mother calmly got up and fetched mini Spongebob, and put it RIGHT back in the kid's hands. Then the kid repeated his earlier routine, and stared at the Spongebob, and threw it, although this time he was able to summon adult-like strength, and throw it a bit further. Just like the first time, the mother walked over to the action figure, kind of looked around at the other adult on the train and smiled, and then put the Spongebob back into the hands of the perpetrator. And once again, the kid repeated the whole routine, and threw Mr. Spongebob right at my feet. I gave the mother the action figure back, except this time the mother put Spongebob in her purse, and I don't have to tell you what happened.

The little kid started yelling at the top of his little lungs, and the mother, forced into sudden action and at severe risk of being embarrassed and upstaged by this her monster of a son and his action figure, picked up the kid out of the stroller, and held and rocked the little one until he shut the hell up. Just then my stop came, and began to walk off the train, and the little kid looked at me, winked and then gave me the thumbs up, as if to say, "See how I just played my mom?". Ok that last sentence I just wrote was totally made up, but I thought it would be cool if it did happen.

I would like to thank my lady for penning such a beautiful blog entry, and I'd also like to thank you people who totally ignore my entries, and came out of the woodwork to show her love. First my brother upstages me, now this. I am reduced to making up sentences about infants now. But seriously, that meant a lot to me that she wrote and got responses. I talk about her all the damn time, at least someone besides me knows she exists.

Sweet and Lovely - Thelonious Monk
Mr. Monk died 27 years ago yesterday, and I didn't realize this until they announced it during a black history month tribute during last night's Wizards game. I am on a quest for some of Mr. Monk's work in vinyl, so if you have an album of his you want to ditch, or if you know somewhere in the DC area that has it, please let me know.