The Times was wise to assign the movie “The Housemaid” to Alissa Wilkinson to review. Sydney Sweeney is in it so any hetero male who reviewed it would just come up with blubbering and drooling.

It’s a favorable review, especially for most of the cast, including Syd. She (the reviewer) urges us to see it in the theater. “That’s where I saw it, with a full house of ordinary moviegoers who seemed to be having a blast. They chuckled, they clapped, they occasionally warned the characters to watch out. When a guy in the middle of the theater made a joke at the very end, the whole crowd burst out laughing, and we all left in a good mood. In line for the bathroom afterward, I listened as people talked about how much they enjoyed that movie.”

BTW, you may have heard that Musk came under fire for creepy remarks he made about Sweeney’s physical endowments. Implying her ample chest must put a strain on her back, he opined “It can’t be easy.” What an idiot.

Phil and she hit it off, we were happy to hear (see S’s smile, below). She promised to stop by for a Diet Coke the next time she’s in Jersey. Which, let’s see, should probably be around . . . never. D’oh!

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Apologies are in order to all of you who wrote in complaining about our skimpy coverage of the Sirens game Weds nite, asking for more details. As we noted, the Sirens played a good aggressive game, but were thwarted at every turn by the Fleet goalie, Aerin Frankel. The decisive goal was scored early in the second period by Ella Huber, Boston’s 23-year-old forward from Northfield IL. Ella played college hockey for UMinny and reps the US in international play. Sorry fellas — she’s dating Matt Knies, who also plays pro hockey, up in Toronto for the Maple Leaves. I’d keep my distance unless you have excellent dental insurance.

Here are Ella and Matt in front of historic Scotiabank Arena in Toronto, where the Maple Leaves play.

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From The Onion:

Trump Assures Struggling Nation He Has Plenty Of Money

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Twas the Friday before Xmas . . . and here’s a holiday song for us bluegrass fans with Molly Tuttle. She’s new to me — thanks Son Volt!

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Let’s share a yard of ale and toast the future. In the puzzle today, at 6D the clue was “Yard sale?” and the answer was ALE.

It should hold about 48 oz. Burp!

Probably best not to walk around barefoot after drinking one. At 3D, the clue was “They may recently have been in a jam,” and the answer was STUBBED TOES.

There is apparently a category of cartoons called “arthritis cartoons” (not kidding), within which this is funny. Maybe.

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Here are some more:

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Back to the puzzle, 38A was a little sobering: “Suddenly kicks the bucket.” Answer: DROPS DEAD. Yikes! Rex said it was his favorite answer. It is fairly fresh, for Crossworld.

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I’ll be the first to admit I have no understanding of an enormous number of pro football rules. Stuff like what’s an illegal formation, the requirements for linemen lining up, and the like. But I get the basic stuff and could thus appreciate the play everyone is talking about from last night’s excellent Seahawks-Rams game.

Seattle was going for a two-point conversion to tie the game at 30-all in the fourth quarter. Sam Darnold threw a screen pass to Zach Charbonnet (a running back; not a dry French wine), that was knocked down by Jared Verse, a Ram defender (and the brother of Uni, Blank, and Per). Incomplete pass, play over, right? Not so fast!

Astute officials noticed it was a backwards pass — not a forward pass. That makes it a live ball when knocked down, not an incomplete pass. Charbonnet picked it up in the end zone for the score. Replays show it was definitely a backward pass. But some argue that even if that were the case, the whistle blew so it was a dead ball and not a score. Al Michaels said the whistle did not blow, but the question persists in some minds. The game turned on the play. And the season may turn on the game, given its effect on playoff positioning.

Here’s Sam Darnold when he was with the Jets. Note the “why me, Lord?” look. Sam gained some notoriety as a Jet for his remark after a game in which his offensive line gave him little-to-no protection. “I’m seeing ghosts out there,” he said. He speaks of his days with the Jets like tortured Iraqis speak of their time in Saddam Hussain’s prisons.

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It seems like it’s been forever since we’ve read a poem by Ted Kooser together. This one is from Winter Morning Walks, dated “february 19, Thirty-five degrees and drizzling.”

When I switched on a light in the barn loft
late last night, I frightened four flickers
hanging inside, peering out through their holes.
Confused by the light, they began to fly
wildly from one end to the other,
their yellow wings slapping the tin sheets
of the roof, striking the walls, scrabbling
and falling. I cut the light
and stumbled down and out the door and stood
in the silent dominion of starlight
till all five of our hearts settled down.

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I hope it didn’t take too long. Thanks for stopping in. See you tomorrow!