Oi Sim Sim Sim, Oi Não Não Não

We were graced with a visit from Uncle Sean, Aunt Minou and Dexter last week, a quick stop on their way to North Carolina. Dexter regaled us with a Haydn theme, while I played with the scale model of the Capitol that Aunt Minou and Uncle Sean had bestowed upon Booker for his birthday. Everything seemed briefly civilized.


Then Booker had a moment to show off his keyboard skills, hunting and pecking Lightning McQueen in an endless youtube search. His kinpudr taym, as he renders it, is sacred.


The next day was Booker’s birthday party, once again at Wheaton Regional Park. Seamus, tilting headlong against the towering silver maples, emerged miraculously unscathed.


Mary’s cakes, a perfection of confection, of course.


Booker no doubt wishing for Mack, the big semi from Cars. For the first time, we have become the pawns of the evil empire’s merchandising strategies. We are bombarded daily with requests from both boys for more Cars paraphernalia. The flurry of birthday gifts, including more of the expensive little vehicles than any reasonable adult would imagine to exist, assuaged this pressure only briefly.

Y., Booker’s capoeira instructor, captivated the baixinhos, and soon had them all singing “Oi sim sim sim, Oi não não não,” the most basic capoeira corrido.


Throwing a capoeira party and inviting only your friends who have never before played capoeira turns out to be a great way to pass for a martial arts prodigy.