I had an unsettling thought today. I'll admit it was born of my lame habit of considering fictional characters' lives as though they were real, but no matter. This is serious.

So, think about it. A guy like Angel, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer (shhh, fans, I know he has his own series)... no last name, like Madonna, Cher, Sappho. Sure, it's all fine and well for women. But what if some one-named guy meets a nice girl, finally understands what his dad meant by tradition and responsibility, and wants to settle down? What if this girl cherishes custom? What if she's been waiting all her life for a white wedding, a white picket fence, and her husband's name? What then??

Does she just drop her last name too? There is nothing to unify them. And what of the children?

Did you ever think about that, Fabio? DID YOU?

(I seriously doubt it.)

This week, Ranjit is tucked away in a mountainy vacation home with his family, the dog, and his teensy baby nephew. I will kidnap the dog, the baby, and the mountain, thank you. Anyway, I know I said I'd stop being so poemish, but I wrote this for him, for Christmas, and it's so cute I could scream. And so should you.

The air, she is snowing,
with snowblowers blowing
the air and the snow all about.

The babies are giggling.
The puppies are wiggling
and nudging the babies with snout.

The presents are holding
their breath and they're folding
their paws as they wait to come out.

And you, in your cabin?
I hope that you're having
the merriest Christmas around.

A couple years ago, Todd and I made a fan page for our boss, because we truly loved him and wanted to humiliate him. I think this did the trick!

If memory serves, poems 1,2,4, and 6 were mine. The brilliant Perl and Godzilla haiku were the handiwork of Mr. Kennedy.

Oh, and all the pictures were mine. You may all admire my mad skillz.