I'm Not A Punk, Or Maybe I Am

So yesterday I was chillin up in Bucktown in my new outfit - did a little shopping, got a bit tipsy with an afternoon martini, the whole bit

About 2:30 I decided to hit up Silver Cloud for one of the best grilled cheese sandwiches in the city. After taking off my hat I was approached by a guy named Howard Beckman who claimed to be a bigtime music executive. We exchanged some initial pleasantries and then he said to me, "Finley, with that hair-do, you could be the lead singer in a punk band," to which I responded, "Mr. Beckman, no offense, but with this hair-do, I can be just about anything. "

Finley's Got A Boyfriend (Na, na, na, na, na)

I'd like to introduce you to my boyfriend, his name is Jake Crotty.
Jake is nine months old, so he is literally robbing the cradle by dating me, but we don't care, we're in love. Interesting family trees here - My grandpa went to high school with Jake's grandpa, then my Uncle Brian went to high school with Jake's Uncle Tim, and then Dad and Jake's Dad met freshman year of high school at Mt. Carmel, drove to school together every day, and have since become best of friends. So it's kind of destined to be that Jake and I would be boyfriend and girlfriend. I knew Jake was coming to visit today so I got up, took a bath and put on my best outfit - my snazzy leg warmers - to impress him. We both threw up a lot while he was over for breakfast, so it's literally destiny. Only thing is, Dad said after Jake left that Jake's Dad was going to have to pay for the wedding because he used to skimp Dad on gas money.

Finley's KC Cousin

This week my cousin Kameron came to visit me from Kansas City. Kam is really awesome and was great at holding me. She was very gentle and calm and she also made me laugh, and you all know how much I like laughing. So below is a photo of Kam and me, and below that are some random photos that Mom and Dad took this week. As you will see, I'm becoming a pretty big fan of bath time.

Fontano's? FontanYES!

So here's the deal, there's this sandwich shop in the back of Dad's work called Fontano's. Dad loves their meatball sandwich and Mom and Dad both are big fans of the chicken salad. So Dad has been going in there for a few years and become quite good friends with the ladies who work behind the counter, who are a real trip. Vicky has kids off in college and Peg has four boys, a couple at home, a couple at college, so the gals have really taken to me through photos Dad shows them. Well, I stopped in to meet the ladies last week and they went positively gaga over me (and who wouldn't?). They told Mom to come back and she could eat a sandwich while they held me.

So we took them up on it. Mom and I swung out to meet Dad for lunch and the second we got in the door Peg said, "Hey boss, I'm off the clock for 15! I told these guys we provide great service and it's my time to hold the little one!" So they made a killer chicken salad sandwich and Peg held me for 15-20 minutes while Mom and Dad ate. It was rather entertaining. Every person who walked into the sandwich shop she showed me off to. She brought me behind the counter and explained all the condiments to me, the whole bit.
I told her I knew all about sub sandwiches because back in '79, right before Reagan, I actually ran a sandwich shop. Yeah, we had the whole deal, only we made pizzas, too. Don't ask me why - everyone always did, wondering why we mixed pizzas with a sandwich shop. My answer was always... why not? Anyway, Reaganomics gave my business a huge boost and that's how I bought that second home in Dubrovnik.

Finley and Uncle Sam Want You!

Okay, so I turned two months old on April 10 (again, no cards or well wishes from anyone... shame on you) so we pulled out old Charlie the Bear and took photos of me next to him. And at the bottom are some photos of me on my one-month birthday next to Charlie so ya'all can see how I've grown.

Sorry this is so short, but I'm off to the bath because I have dried spit up in the creases of my neck that don't smell very good. We'll talk soon.

The Two Stooges

So I'm assuming some of you are shaking your head like, "Finley, there are THREE stooges, not two." Yeah, yeah, I know, but seriously, in this photo below my dad is, obviously and as usual, a stooge. And I'd even go so far as to call myself one as I can get rather silly with all the diapers I can fill up, but my mom is not a stooge. She is filled with awesomeness, takes great care of me and is really cute, and is the only one in the photo below that does not have a stooge hair-do.

For those of you not familiar, a Trifecta is a sports term for when you gamble on a horse race and hit all three horses correctly to win, place and show.

Some people call it a family, but I call my little 3-person clan of mom, dad and me something more special.

So without further ado (and without Freddy Adu), I bring you My Trifecta.

Crawl Before I Walk

Okay, so I just turned seven weeks old the other day so I figured this might be a good time to catch up with you guys. And no, I didn't get a single 7-week birthday card in the mail... and I call you all friends and family... sheesh.

Anyway, last weekend was really fun. My dad's friend Courtney has a bar crawl every year, and this was the 8th year, so I decided to crash it. When we got up last Saturday dad was like, "Well, I don't think we should go, that might not be proper," and I was like, "Dude, chill, no one's getting wasted, I just want to hit some bars and spend some quality time with friends." He agreed, so off we went with Mom in tow to the first bar on the list - Sports Corner at the corner of Addison and Sheffield.

Dad broke out in hives the closer we got to Wrigley Field, but he managed to stay composed. And thus I became the youngest member of the annual bar crawl that has ever existed. And I think I'm going to be really tough to beat because I wasn't even six weeks old. So here's a shot of me at the crawl with Dad and Courtney - what you can't see is my name tag that says, "Hello, My Name Is Finley's First Bar Crawl." I was, as you can imagine, pretty freakin popular. I only lasted two bars (about 40 minutes) and then it was time for me to go home, but it was great to get my first bar crawl under my belt - you know what they always say, ya gotta crawl before you walk. Here's to next year when I might skip the beer and go straight for the hard stuff. Cheers.