I am on the road again this week, but very little wine is involved (except with dinner, naturally). Nathan and I are in Cleveland today, traveling to Saint Louis this afternoon, continuing our college tour. As I have done in the past while on the road, I post a previously published Sundays Are For Sebastian. This one is from three and a half years ago, shortly after Sebastian had turned nine.
Sebastian is my nine-year old and he says some of the funniest things–we have no idea where he gets his material since his mother and I are rather boring, serious people.
I came home from a ride the other day, ready to watch the big game. I went to the living room to find the boys watching some pre-teen drivel, so I retreated to my bedroom. I turned on the set to find that one of the boys had activated the Closed Caption feature the last time they were in there watching T.V. (we have far too many screens already in the house, why they feel the need to also use our room is beside me).
After a good ten minutes trying to turn the damned Closed Captions off, I blew a gasket….
Me: “Who was in here watching T.V.?!?!”
Sebastian came running upstairs, already with some terror in his eyes (which I found very satisfying, I have to say).
Seba: “I was, sorry.”
Me: “Why do you insist to turn on the Closed Captions? They drive me nuts! If you are going to watch T.V. in here, you are forbidden from using the Closed Captions! I can never remember how to turn them off! I have already spent ten minutes trying to figure it out! Turn them off, right away!!!”
Without hesitation, Sebastian, with tears welling in his eyes from my onslaught (again, I was rather glad about that), took the remote control and as he pushed a button he said:
“Turn off Closed Captions.”
The closed captioning disappeared, he sheepishly handed me the remote, very apologetically, and left the room.
the drunken cyclist 