Moob Watch 2013

My Fellow Inebriates,

We spotted our first Moobs of 2013 yesterday, their jouncing thinly concealed under the reflective “X” of a shirtless garbage collector.

The day was radiant—cornflower-blue skies and 9°C—not spring but hinting strongly of it, and crocuses corroborating. Those Man Boobs had probably been confined all winter and were now having their day in the sun.

moobs-chart

Despite the obvious joyfulness of the scene, my mother narrowed her eyes as the garbage collector pitched our can across the next-door neighbor’s driveway and then ran off after his truck, his moobs a riot of springtime delight.

“It’s begun,” she said.

“I know, isn’t it spectacular? If I weren’t covered with fur, I could shake my moobs like that. All six of them. Really, it calls for a toast.”

She looked at her watch. “It’s 7:45 a.m.”

“Exactly.”