Glen Greenberg wrote; 
[Apr 27 ' 98]  

    Da-Da is busy this week writing about toll stuff and other assorted
    (yawn) government stuff, so I'm gonna write his column. My name
    is Glen and I have a Ma-Ma and Da-Da and a dog named Banyan
    who kinda looks like a dalmatian but fatter. Da-Da never takes
    Banyan to work cause he says she works guarding the house,
    which she does pretty well except for when someone stole  
    Da-Da's bicycle from the shed last week and Banyan didn't even
    wake up to bark.

    So he took me to work on Wednesday, which is the longest day of
    the week if you count the letters, which I can't. The place where
    Da-Da works is cool because they have a candy bowl which is
    always full. I don't understand this. I don't understand why adults,
    who can choose what they eat, would eat anything except candy,
    which is clearly the best tasting food in the world.

    When we got to the office, I made a beeline for this candy bowl,
    which I remembered from being there around Christmas. Back
    then, I had to wait for an adult to give me some, but now I'm big
    enough to climb a stack of newspapers sitting nearby and help
    myself.

    The Ma-Ma-type people at the office got a little nervous like
    Ma-Mas and Nanas always do cause they thought I might fall, but
    Da-Da told them I was a good climber, and when I wasn't being a
    good climber, I was a pretty good faller since I never seem to get
    hurt.

    Anyway, I didn't fall and reached into the candy bowl and pulled
    out my favorite type which is M&Ms. But most of the M&Ms were
    at the bottom of the bowl and hard to reach, especially when
    you're standing tippy-toed on a stack of newspapers tall as me.

    So I had to mostly settle for little Hershey's chocolate bars and
    Reese's peanut butter cups, which are kind of hard to eat cause
    you have to peel off the paper first or they taste as bad as
    asparagus. M&Ms are better and easier to eat, which means you
    can stuff more in your mouth before your Da-Da comes along to
    pull you away. 

    The Ma-Ma type people made a big fuss over me on account of
    me being two and a half years old. Seems that the older you get,
    the less cute you become until you get real old like my great-Nana
    Pauline, at which time you start growing smaller and become cute
    again.

    Everyone at the office said I looked exactly like Ma-Ma or Da-Da. I
    wonder why people are always saying that since I don't look
    anything like them cause I'm a lot smaller. Maybe we look alike
    cause we all have two ears and two eyes and one nose and toes
    ranging from the big one that went to the market to the little one
    that cried "wee-wee-wee" and ran all the way home.

    Anyway, I grabbed as much candy as I could and let Da-Da take
    me for a walk to the tennis tournament. When we got to the ticket
    booth, the Ma-Ma type person said that the Sampras match was
    cancelled. I stood up in my stroller and asked if they had any
    candy or ice cream or anything related to Star Wars inside. 
    She laughed but didn't seem to understand me, which happens
    all the time, especially in Miami.

    Da-Da said that it didn't matter whether Sampras played or not
    unless it meant getting a discount on the ticket, which it didn't. So
    we went inside and it was like an art festival with all the tents,
    except that there was no art. Mostly there was clothes and food
    and other things to buy, also not at a discount.

    We walked around till we came to the grandstand court where
    four Ma-Ma-type people were playing tennis. When one hit the
    ball, I cheered, but Da-Da shushed me. Then another one missed
    the ball and everyone cheered. This seemed stupid to me, that 
    you cheer when they miss the ball rather than when they hit it. 
    So I continued to cheer every time one of them hit the ball until
    other people in the stands started looking at us like we had 
    poo-poo in our pants, so we left.

    Da-Da took me to a place just for kids where I could play ball. But
    the games were for bigger kids and the only thing I could do was
    kick a soccer ball into the goal. Nobody clapped but Da-Da cause
    teenagers generally don't see little kids as being cute so much as
    being in the way.

    Next we went to a movie in a great big tent where you sit on the
    floor and the movie goes on all around you on nine or six screens
    I don't know for sure cause I can't count past three. In one way
    the movie was kind of neat, but it was also kind of stupid since
    you can't see everything unless you're a Ma-Ma-type of person
    with eyes in the back of your head. Also, there was no popcorn, 
    which is the best part of going to the movies.

    After the movie, we stopped by a pub tent so Da-Da could get a
    beer. I sat on a stool by the bar, but the man who gave Da-Da his
    beer said I couldn't sit there on account it would look bad or was
    illegal or something. Nobody else was there except this Nana and
    Grampa-type couple who seemed to enjoy my company, 
    especially when I started chatting with them. But the man behind
    the bar made me leave. Da-Da said not to feel bad since getting
    kicked out of a bar is something that happens to everyone 
    eventually.

    Next we went to the big stadium and took an elevator to the top
    button, then walked up steps even higher until we were almost at
    the very top of the stadium. Two Ma-Ma-types were playing, but
    they were so far away that they didn't seem real.

    It was a lot of fun to whack Da-Da with a cardboard fan that some
    Nana-type person gave me. As usual, Da-Da laughed the first few
    times, then for no apparent reason decided it wasn't funny
    anymore. That's okay, I found it more fun to just drop things
    through the stands, like the fan and an empty cup and whatever
    was laying around. Car keys would have been really fun cause of
    the noise they make, but I couldn't find any.

    Da-Da said that it was a good tennis match and I should watch it,
    but I wanted to leave cause walking up and down the stadium
    steps was sure to be more fun. We did it a few times before
    Da-Da spotted a guy we see on the TV news every night. Jim
    Berry, which sounds like a type of Juicy Juice, but isn't. Da-Da
    talked to him, then we went to get ice cream, which was the
    highlight of the day. I got a strawberry cone and we sat at a
    cafe-type table while I ate some and wore the rest.

    Unlike Ma-Mas, Da-Das will let you walk around with melted ice
    cream on your lips and cheeks and hands so you can always lick
    some off later, after your cone runs out.

    We walked around, then left and went to the fire house where this
    Da-Da-type named Marco, who was tall as some trees I know, let
    Da-Da and me climb around the fire trucks and ring the bell and
    put on the lights and that was almost as much fun as eating
    strawberry ice cream.

    Then we got into the car, and I guess I passed out cause the next
    thing I knew, I woke up on Ma-Ma and Da-Da's bed.

    Some of the things we did that day I didn't remember till I started
    writing about it. I'm glad I did cause it's good for a kid to know
    what his Da-Da does for work, even though it doesn't seem much
    different than what he does when he's not working.