Boobie Breakfast

"Who names . . . or named . . . the birds?"

"What?"

"I mean, really...Nazca Boobies! I understand the scientific names for categorization, organization, all that stuff that scientists think they need and can agree on, but the common name . .  . Sounds like NASCAR."

"Well," she says, patiently, but with the trace of a smile that hints at her pleasure, or, is the word 'enjoyment,' of his fascination, bordering on indignation, at the daily revelation of a bird species neither of them has ever seen or heard of. The Blue Boobie back in March was memorable, but today's Nazca Boobie is her favorite so far....and only five days before the end of the year--no doubt there is significant significance there. "Well," she says again, "it was probably somebody local to their origin who named it, and the name so perfectly described it, that it caught on."

"But 'boobie!?' Sounds like a joke," he says, then laughs. "It is a joke! Have you seen this bird?"

She is vigorously stirring the oatmeal to keep it from burning, but turns toward him to feign interest in the boobie. "Hmmm," she says, then swivels back to the oatmeal before it is scorched.

"That hardly says it."

"The oatmeal is ready," she announces, but he is now too deep in the history of boobies, muttering something about the origin of the word, then he proclaims, loudly and triumphantly, "The name booby was based on the Spanish slang term bobo, meaning "stupid" because the booby bird had a habit of landing on board sailing ships where they were easily captured and eaten."

Her immediate instinct is to sling a spoonful of hot oatmeal if not the whole pot on the boobie standing next to her, but grace, or a vision of the mess it would create, stops her in time. She dishes up two bowls, hands one to her favorite boobie, and the day begins, again,  without a bobo incident.