Last night we all converged in the kitchen at 9 PM, post-homework by pre-arrangement, for The Office. In a second burst of uncharacteristic culinary initiative in one week, I’d made a quiche while Chris and Hugh were outside doing yard work, and all was in readiness. Except we couldn’t find Malcolm, who had been skateboarding, eating, and doing homework in constant rotation since arriving home at 3 PM. Hugh made the discovery: “Malcolm’s sleeping in the living room!” We decided not to wake him up, sleeping pupa-like under his butterflies.
Notice the Guinness Book of World Records. This is like catnip for Malcolm, Mr. Non-Fiction. We are frequently called to see pictures of the world’s smallest monkey, longest fingernails or largest geode as he pores, rapt, over its pages.
So the four of us who were awake watched The Office, and roared with laughter, often of the painful variety. Little known fact: Steve Carrell arrived on the campus of Denison University three months after I graduated, and my little brother Tom arrived three months after Steve graduated. We both missed him – by mere weeks! Apparently he was in lots of the theatre productions. We could have said we knew him when, but in fact we were jinxed by accidents of birth year. Talk about bad comedic timing on Steve’s part!
And now it is Friday. I predict that a great deal of REM sleep will take place in this house over the weekend, as we continue to adjust our circadian rhythms and get into the swing of the school year.
