It's Sephie, the perennial observer of male silliness!
Ever since receiving his award for Zen-like Beard-Consciousness, Buster's ego has expanded to the size of the Crab Nebula. He struts about and expects to be greeted as some kind of celebrity! And worse, he thinks there are no limits to his abilities...
Tonight, he got it into his 14-cubic centimeter brain that he could accompany the long-cursed Boston Red Sox to their third world championship by virtue of his prowess as a Shortstop.
One minor problem: HE CAN'T SEE THE BALL! It seems he has as much hair in front of his eyes as he does beneath his chin.
"Not to worry," he says! Just borrow a scunci from the HuMom and wrap those locks right up, exposing the eyes of an eagle!
Don't you think this looks like the paragon of masculinity?
Okay--here we go! Check out the form!
Yeah--that was just lucky, right? Well, he says just watch--he'll do it again!
Okay, I've gotta admit, he might be on to something here. So I asked Bailey, my four-footed Mom, what she thought. Is this something we girls ought to be impressed with?
Well, I guess I got my answer! I 'spose the Red Sox will have to struggle on their own for another year!