Reporter

I was in a big, so important I lost sleep the night before, conference call when my iphone buzzed. It was Diana. Over the years, I’ve learned that when Diana calls my office line during the day, I can miss the call. But when she calls my cell, I better answer because something is up. Like blood gushing from Elijah or we lost Grover’s dog collar.

I quickly excited the rank smelling conference room and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t you want to talk about Eli going to the zoo?”

I said, “You know that meeting that is the cause of 54 grey hairs on my head? I’m in it now.”

Di quickly replied, “Oh sorry. But call me soon.”

I went back to the meeting, but in the back of my head I was secretly happy. If whatever happened at the zoo warranted a cell phone call, the next blog entry would be a no brainer.

Later, I anxiously called home and asked for the scoop from my reporter in the field. I couldn’t wait to get the lowdown on what hilarious antics transpired earlier.

“He was soooo cute.”

"Uh-huh. What else?"

“He hugged a goat.”

"Aaaand?"

“He was cute.”

Diana is the love of my life. She is a beautiful person, who has reached super-human awesomeness in my eyes.

But she is the worst HamannEggs reporter ever. I think it’s because she loves Eli so much. She is blind to any of the embarrassing, silly and potentially damaging things that make for good HamannEggs entries.

I mean, look at these photos. You can’t tell me there wasn’t at least one thing at happened that Eli will hate hearing about when he turns 18.

That night, I was reading with Eli in his fort and decided to go right to the source.

“Hey Eli, what did you do at the zoo today?”

“Goats.”

“What else?”

“Goats.”

“I give up.”

“Goats.”