They say that men use less words than women. By less words, I mean in speaking, as if they have a daily allotment for how much they can talk. I don't think this applies to writers like Leo Tolstoy (I still can't get through War and Peace). This is true of Matt, who uses much, much less. He is like Clint Eastwood in Pale Rider. "Yep. Nope. Maybe." This is usually a compliment. But sometimes can be immensely frustrating.

Today my new nephew was born. At least, I'm thinking it's a nephew. Matt called me at work. And here is how the conversation went:

Matt: "It's here."

Me: "It? It's a boy, right?"

Matt: "I don't know."

Me: "You didn't ask?"

Matt: "No."

Me: "How big is it? What is 'its' name? When was it born?"

Matt: "Don't know."

Me (annoyed): "Well, what do you know?"

Matt: "Nothing."

Me: "You got that right."


And so it goes... But I am looking forward to meeting Baby. As Matt said, in one of his more verbose expositions, "You know what I can't wait for? I can't wait to smell it. New baby smell. Mmmmmmm." If I didn't know better I would think he was talking about a barbeque pork sandwich.

New babies do smell good. Too bad they can't make a little air freshener with that smell, you could hang it in your car. Much better than those little pine trees dangling from the rear view mirror. I bet they would sell like hotcakes.