Recently, Cheryl and I dined al fresco while the young lovers frolicked in the backyard. (Important disclaimer: We still think of them as puppies, but in dog years, they're senior citizens. How did that happen?) "Look," I said, "Dusty and Scout are doing that thing little kids do.... parallel play." Cheryl, who taught preschool and knows enough about parallel play to last two lifetimes, was more focused on the food. "This salad is delicious." "I made sure there's no Sinatra in it," I said. Cheryl started to laugh. "No Sinatra?" "Oh, @#$%. I meant cilantro. I know you don't like cilantro." "But I love Sinatra." "Me, too." Sinatra. Cilantro. The SJG may be the first human in history to confuse the two.