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Francis scraped the melted cheese off his scrambled eggs this morning while we all stared at him.

“Francis is not a real St. Louisan,” Carrie-Bri determined. “He doesn’t like Provel. I think we need to have an exorcism.”

“Surround him with blocks of Provel,” Rose added. “Eat your way out.”

This kid is as picky as his food as Puck isn’t. Except maybe when it comes to cauliflower. Wednesday night, he stared at the cauliflower casserole on the table with disdain.

“I’m not eating that.”

“That’s okay,” Dad told him cheerfully. “More for me. Because little boys can’t appreciate the exquisite taste of cauliflower.”

Later in the morning, Puck was singing to himself from a collection of baseball tunes, “Oh … Adam Waaaainwright … throw, a lot of strikes toniiiight…”

I think the sport is growing on him.

Linnea-Irish had an added taste of baseball this afternoon when she met Eleda English at the mall to find Shane Robinson. SugaShane signing autographs apparently paid for in advance by Joe Kelly, returning Friday to “drop off a few things.”

Linnea set the gold-penned photograph of Shane “arm-fiving” Matt Holliday in the dugout on the table while she and Eleda brought sandwiches, salad, chips, dip, and chocolate into the basement for a “Gilmore Girls” marathon.

Meanwhile, Francis had taken Puck to Chesterfield Mall to jump on the trampoline and eat soft pretzels. Then Lucia drove over around dinner to meet Carrie and Grewe in the Valley for coffee.

And then…

NLDS Game 2

St. Louis Cardinals at Los Angeles Dodgers

8:30 pm

Watching the game on mute was one of the only pleasant side-effects of the Cardinals loss that night. About midnight I shut off the close game, glad to be done with the media for awhile. If they’re not attributing a Cardinals win to “stealing signs” and a Dodgers win to pristine pitching despite the boos of an uneducated crowd … Except for Bob Costas. One of the advantages of being in the Midwest: always stealthily under the radar.