A full blast


We got up early today and had breakfast at an artisanal chocolate factory on Valencia Street. Ok, we had chocolate for breakfast. We’re adults, these are life decisions we’re (mostly) capable of. We were preparing ourselves, girding our loins as it were, for brunch.

I’ve written about brunch before, how it’s always been for me a compromise between breakfast and lunch, combining the flaws of both rather than the virtues. In New York, you have brunch late on Sunday morning. In California, it’s somehow even more crowded at the cafés offering it, and you can’t get a table before lunchtime. Which surely makes it an admixture of lunch and brunch. I guess you could call that "lrunch".

We went to a place called Venus in Oakland. There’s always a huge queue outside, and a procession of down and outs panhandling for money, which is an awkward collision of people willing to pay twenty dollars for coffee and eggs, and the destitute. Why this hasn’t provoked a full scale insurrection is beyond comprehension. They really must be mellowed out in California by the sunshine and easy access to citrus fruit. If Marie Antoinette had said "let them eat pancakes" she would have done ok out here.

Still, as I drank my pomegranate juice and ate my Valrhona and raspberry pancakes, I was quite happy, betraying my Marxist leanings for a solid meal.

Afterwards, we drove to a friend’s place. They were in the middle of renovations and that meant the toilet was covered in plastic sheeting. Nobody told me you just has to remove the sheeting; I assumed it was out of action and spent twenty minutes hunting for a spare toilet in the house, before anyone filled me in. Felicity got to lie in a hammock for the first time ever, and then we drove back to the city, for another round of Mexican food.

That was a bit confusing. You can ask for aguacete with your tacos, and also avocado. Which is the same thing. If you order avocado, do they promise it’s prepared by a non-Spanish speaking member of staff? Is the aguacete more authentic? I didn’t press the lady at the till for explanation, just grabbed a bag of takeout and left.

Finally, the true highlight of the day. It’s exactly five months since Felicity was born , so to celebrate the 25th she went into full on purge mode. First she put a stomach full of milk down my wife’s cleavage. Then once she had returned from showering (milk is murderous to clean),Felicity puked on her again. And again. And then on me. And then puked on my wife again. She was inordinately happy throughout, which to begin with ameliorated our stress and concern, but the longer a baby is simultaneously laughing at you and throwing up on you, the more you suspect it has planned this extravaganza.

On she gurgled. We changed her through two outfits, and were contemplating a third when she decided to attack on another front, filling a nappy with an impressive amount,of bright yellow gunk. I stared in awe at our child.

Then realized that she’d managed to foul my lap too. Another pair of freshly laundered trousers, back to the dirty pile. Again, Felicity was amused by all of this.

And her joy continued until she was empty, at which point she was hungry again, and couldn’t sleep until she was fully refilled. I’m starting to believe that a switch has been knocked somewhere, and we’re bearing the brunt of some kind of user error.

Or this is just a foretaste of the next two decades.


2 responses to “A full blast”

  1. They do stop vomiting after a while. And hopefully in your hot sunny climes you will be spared the phenomenon that is baby born winter vomiting virus.

    I dunno I like brunch. It’s definitely more interesting than breakfast. And you don’t have to wait so long as you do for lunch.

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