Daddy is taking an on-line real estate course right now, so he needed a couple hours of "Boh-free time" to study on Saturday afternoon. So Mommy took me to Irene's, because where else to take a baby on a sunny weekend afternoon whilst Winterlude is keeping our Nation's Capital aglow and abuzz but an ill-lit stinky pub with greasy burgers, cheap Blue on tap, and the names of patrons past carved into your table? We think we saw your picture on the wall...
Uncle D. had rented out the basement to host a jam session with Uncles B. and S. The girls ate greasy fries and showed Mommy their wares from a morning of spending too much money.
Mommy said she missed the days of disposable income. The only thing disposable in her purse now are diapers, Size 3.
It was open mike, and some regulars got up to play a few tunes. The last song they played was a Neil Young cover, Rockin' in the Free World. I was getting fidgety, so Mommy and I got up and danced. (Funny that; Irene's has no highchairs.)
It was my first live band. Mommy said it reminded her of Paris, and the night she danced with Carlos, a Mexican who could not speak a lick of English but for Elvis Presley lyrics. The band then played Can't Help Falling in Love, and Mommy took Carlos by the hand to a small spot by the stage to dance.
Carlos glowed.
The band yesterday didn't look much different than the band from the restaurant in Paris (pictured below). Except, you know, they were English, so the flare was relatively muted.
But it was still a good day.
Love, Boh
XOX
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