Self-Correcting Blogosphere

This is just egregiously wrong:

Last night we celebrated with cocktails. Iris even had one of her own. We are very, very bad parents. If it helps to know this, J called it a virgin Shirley Temple because it didn't even have fizz, just water, lemon, and a maraschino cherry. Her glass: a votive candle holder.

In fact, there was Grenadine for a little sweetness and red color, and that's a lime on there.

Folks, that's my lovely wife. We were incognito while she worked at the City and I said things like this, but she's quitting, so now we can acknowledge one another.

It's nice to be out of the closet.