Mrs. Squirrel and I gathered around Árbol Squirrel with the kids and neighboring squirrels to join the annual New Year’s tradition. As we counted down to midnight, we watched the coconut drop…. (More)
The occasion was truly festive. Our New Year’s Eve punch was made with coconut milk, tapped by the
Professor of Astrology Janitor after he drilled out a hole by which to hang it from Árbol Squirrel. No, I don’t live in a coconut palm. If I did, I’d probably be as big as a gopher by now.
We all gathered on the deck of the
hot tub faculty lounge squirrel bath, sipping our punch and waiting for the big moment. Then the countdown began and we watched the New Year’s Coconut slowly descend. It was harder to see than the huge, lighted ball that drops in Times Square. On the other hand, a coconut is a huge ball for squirrels. And unlike that ridiculous lighted thing in New York City, our ball also provided the New Year’s feast:
We began by gnawing around the hole the
Professor of Astrology Janitor had drilled. As host and hostess, Mrs. Squirrel and I started the process, and then stepped back as our guests took their turns. In less time than you might think, we had the opening wide open enough that the kids to burrow in and start bringing out the coconut meat. I’m sure human children do the same with the snacks at your New Year’s Eve parties.
Well, unless you have to hide them because people are setting off fireworks nearby. And if you’re not hiding your kids when people are setting off fireworks nearby … would you mind explaining why? Is exposing your children to burning gunpowder some New Year’s rite of passage?
While I’m on the topic of New Year’s nuttitude, every human who plans to attend a New Year’s Eve party should have to watch the Mythbusters episode on Beer Goggles first. Just sayin’.
Speaking of things that got more attractive with more New Year’s Eve punch, a hearty thank you to the U.S. Senate for … why am I thanking them for finally doing what they could and should have done two days or two weeks ago? In fact, I won’t.
I will thank Vice President Joe Biden for helping to broker the agreement and helping to convince 89 of 97 senators to vote for it. To paraphrase, “This is a big f-ing deal, Mr. Vice President.”
And that of course segues to bowl games, at least if you had enough New Year’s Eve punch. Yet again, the BPI Fighting Squirrels were not invited to any bowl game. And as always, the bowl committees gave the same lame excuses: non-existent university, no football team, indeed no sports teams at all, and really, who would name their team the “Fighting Squirrels” anyway?
What.Ever. I refuse to watch any bowl games today. Except whatever games the kids play in what’s left of that coconut shell. In fact, I’ll call it the Coconut Bowl. I wonder if Mauna Loa would like to sponsor it….
Good day and good nuts.