Chupa and his friend Jonic spent the evening singing and jamming along to Daniel Caesar’s “Get You,” which requires a lot of falsetto and features the lyric, “everything I need's . . . between . . . those thighs.”
Chupa told me that he’d made reservations at a special place for my birthday, but I told him that I’d already picked out the venue. I wanted PASTA PASTA PASTA. Specifically, I wanted a $60 plate of Chitarra alla Norcina that turned out to cost $70 when we showed up at the restaurant.
In my defense, I’ve never demanded a pricey meal from anyone before, but I’ve been craving good pasta for twenty years.
Plus, TRUFFLES (a.k.a. 1/80th of a truffle)!
I wasn’t sure that I’d say this, but it was worth the $70 (granted, it wasn't my $70)(but I can speak for Chupa and say that it was worth HIS $70, plus tax & tip, so $92. Right? Even though he only got 2 noodles). Delicious!!!
For dinner, I cooked buckwheat noodles to pair with spinach and broth. Chupa found the noodles in the sink and began eating them out of the colander.
“Mmmm,” he said.
“Do you like them?”
“Mmmm, warm rubber bands,” he replied.
“Want to play a game?” Mom would ask.
The game turned out to be us pinching and pulling the skin on the tops of our hands in a perpetual dog pile of claw hands. She’d pull/pinch the skin on the top of my right hand with her right hand. While she held the pinch, I put my left hand over her right hand to pinch her skin and hold it while she put her left hand over my left hand and pinched hard. I’d take my right hand from the bottom, and put it over her left hand to pinch, and so on. This game never lasted long, as Mom, smiling, would speed up the process until we ended with a big collapsed hand pile.
This game was not fun. It was uncomfortable. Mom pinched hard and enthusiastically. Maybe it was invented for bored Taiwanese schoolchildren trapped on public transit.
Chupa buys Bartlett pears that sit in the fridge until they rot.
Tom and Petra had a night nanny who held the twins tucked under her arms, like footballs.
"What are you doing?" Mom asked.
"Invading your space."
"Oh gee," she said. "I don't mind."
Mom loves beverages. For fun, she adds orange juice to oolong tea, along with leftover coffee (from Marshalls) and week-old wine. Part of me thinks she makes this drink because it disturbs me.