A Boozy

I take Eitan out of football ten minutes early and he is crabby all afternoon.  We go to Natasha's wedding - she is the kids' care-taker and they love her. Further aggravating the boy a tie: he has to wear one and doth he protest.  I threaten Manchester United v. Everton, which is on now and we listen as I blog (ManU 1-nil in the beginning of the second half).  Any ways, before this evening is the Church ceremony and the kids scrubbed and coiffed - Madeleine in dress then hair-dried by mum while Eitan his suit and  a 'Vineyard Vines' cravat,  bought by me at Bloomingdale's.  Marcia assures me this what all the bankers in Bronxville wearing these days.  Me, I look forward to a boozy since the union of Natasha and Giuseppe join Italy to Macedonia. Surely there is entertainment?   Both parents traditional and assuredly formal, arriving a few days ago and leaving soon.  And boozy afternoon, indeed. From early champagne to red then white wine. I take great joy looking upon my family through glazed eyes - Eitan dark and moody, Madeleine anxious (reading a poem) and Sonnet's loving eyes always.  Yes, Madeleine determined to present Carol Ann Duffy's "The Rings" and she does: following the father-of-the-bride's toast, Madeleine marches to Natasha and, with deep breath, reads.  Her wonderful job gets our full attention including the Italians who stop speaking for no one.  An ovation too.  Madeleine returns to her seat knowing she has done something good.  Sonnet and I pleased -- thrilled -- that our girl captures a scene for herself.

Eitan: "I want to do some cooking."

Me:

Eitan: "Right here and right now. What do you want?"

Me: "I'm not hungry."

Eitan: "Well, I am going to make an orange soda.  And an omelette.  With a bit of magic, we might be in for something."