Bona Fides of March

Over dinner tonight Steve suddenly said, "Tell me five things you love about me."

This is the thanks I get for letting him have a glass of my super-delicious new Shiraz. He got all punchy.

"I love how silly you are," I replied calmly while I nudged a cat off the table with my foot and went back to feeding Patrick with one hand and drinking deeply with the other.

"WRONG!" shouted Steve. "Now I am going to go write all about it in my blog." Then he laughed for five minutes until I dumped the rest of his glass into my own.

Speaking of Steve, we have a little ritual we go through every year. Each February 14th I lovingly nudge Steve and whisper, "You know what day it is?"

"Thursday," is his invariable response and once every seven years he is right.

"No," I giggle, "It's VALENTINE'S DAY! And do you know what that means?"

"About four weeks until March Madness?"

"YES!" I holler as I pump my fists in the air and jump up and down.

I love the NCAA basketball tournament. I love it so much and I am not sure why. I am not exactly the sporty type and sleeping with athletes does not make me athletic. Maybe it is just the gambler in me. I am allowed one trip to the track a year (it’s like a fucking prison around here I tell you) and I am not allowed to go to casinos anymore (following my first and last visit to a casino during the Great New Orleans Christmas Incident.) I’ll tell you about it sometime, remind me. Three years ago Steve and I started a pool for everyone in the office – both of us. The following year my brother joined (and won, prompting an investigation by Steve into whether this guy was actually an employee of ours.) This year the office pool has swelled with the addition of my mother and her gentleman friend. Stakes are high, tensions are rife and I AM DOMINATING. 8 for 8, thank you very much. So Heather, yes, I am running a bracket and yes, I have Xavier picked for an enormous upset in the second round but North Carolina will prove too much for them. You heard it here first.

Speaking of winners, Jo, our delectable Leery Polyp, instantly recognized the immortal words of Shelbyville Manhattan (Manhattan! HA! Manhattan surprised Florida today- but not me!) Why would we want to marry our cousins? Because they are so attractive.