More NYE

We're staying in a resort-type place, lots of apartments, a communal pool, the works. It's great. About 8pm on New Years Eve, when I had just gotten the girls to bed and was counting down the minutes until I could reasonably send the boys to bed (and hence me) there was a knock on the door. I couldn't imagine how this could be a welcome interruption.

I opened the door, with my face arranged in a very surly expression. It was two young men, around 20. Not drunk, just normal guys. One looked at me with a bit of surprise and said "is Matt there?". I said no. His mate then asked me "are you sure?". What I love about this is that his mate thought it was quite feasible that Matt was, in fact, in my apartment and that I was somehow hiding him. I was very tempted to sigh, turn my head in the direction of the living room (which they couldn't see from the door) and say "Matt... you better come out now". But I didn't, I just couldn't think fast enough.


Speaking of nice young men, I was having dinner with my kids at the pub here and there was a young man near us who I couldn't help noticing had a superbly athletic body, and as I was drinking my (full-strength!) beer I was idly wondering why I didn't ever have a body like that (and also, why he was wearing a baseball cap indoors, and what his wife - who was with him - was like). My older son leaned towards me and said "Dad, don't look now but that guy over there is Brad Johnson from the Western Bulldogs". I somehow felt better for knowing that - it's his job to have a superbly athletic body, it's not like he's some real estate agent who just works out a bit and was lucky with genes.