I don’t really follow soccer. Okay, I do a little … but then this guy came along, earlier this week, and changed everything. Meet my nephew, Jonathan Michael Greig, now on his fourth day of life:
That’s how the boy looks when we have our conversations, he and I, about the birdies and the doggies and bedtime and his incredible good luck. We also discuss the child’s future, and one very serious task: that of looking after his mommy, whom I love very much. Jonathan Michael is a good listener, which may be the most important thing a young man can be.
So you could say my world shrank and expanded, for a few days. The outside world suddenly seemed petty. Why did an experienced general quit over a story in a magazine? Why would people care about celebrities’ body weight? Who the hell would line up and wait for hours just to buy a phone?
But on Wednesday my soccer team won their game against Algeria, and I was happy in an outside-world way about that. And then, thanks to my husband, I saw this:
There you go, ladies.
If newborn babies aren’t your thing, that’s Bubba on the left and Team USA Captain (and primo hottie) Carlos Bocanegra on the right. With beers, and smiles, and of course that cool swagger that says, We’re such winners we don’t even need shirts.
I’m still trying to figure out why Bubba’s wearing his, but for all I know, five minutes later Carlos is wearing pink and has a necktie around his head.
Isn’t that how soccer players roll?