Coco Tuesday

Because I wasn't aware of the calendar and the class schedule of my Level 2 Improv class, I wound up bringing the kids to the class show last night. Luckily, some friends responded to my last-minute invite so the kids didn't have to sit on their own.

I had prepped them (or plied them) by saying that they are part of the show because they could shout out suggestions. As a result, Madge got in three suggestions before anyone else in the house even woke up to the idea that they could do the same.

Teacher: A location that fits on the stage, please.

Madge: House!

Teacher: Okay, what room in the house?

Madge: Dining Room.

Teacher: A relationship, please.

Madge: Hatred.

Teacher: ?

Me [aside]: Two people who hate each other.

Teacher: Two people who hate each other.

Teacher: A specific time.

Madge: Midnight!

And off we went. Though now that I look at these three - dining room, hatred, midnight - maybe there's something she'd like to discuss.

Later in the show Madge got out another suggestion, after which was heard Coco's voice: "Madgiiiie-uhh!"

Because he wanted to get one off, too.

He finally did, one that led to a fun scene filled with ominous dramatic irony:

"Haunted....House!"

And now he can't wait to do again because he wants to say, "Golden Toilet Convention."

What the...? Has he been reading Moore's Utopia on the sly?

Madge Monday

Feelgood moment of the weekend:

Coco had been whining and arguing about all the DS cartriges Madge was getting for her birthday. It wasn't many, but he saw each an every one as a personal slap in the face.

Yesterday the girls went out to use some gift certificates - yes, it appears that fourth grade is the beginning of certificate-giving, mostly because the birthday child's wants have already been met in multiples (how many doll clothes does one girl need, for example - don't answer). When they returned it turned out that Madge had used her certificate at Gamestop to buy her little brother a game he wanted.

Awwww.

(Of course any more advanced game needs to be played by her first, not only because his reading skills aren't up to par for the games, but also just because. Still, awwww.)

Disney Jesus

We had had a late and lengthy dinner with distant relatives, who had brought an even more distantly related four-year-old. Among the entertainments keeping the kids going was the treat of having coins pressed with Disney images in one of those exciting machines in which you insert money and push a button and stand back and watch. Great fun for the little ones.

Madge got an imprint of Pooh and Coco got Lilo and Stitch. The 4-yr-old got Pocahontas and, I think, John Smith. I didn’t see the coin, but I think it was John Smith because the kid said, “It looks like Jesus” and I don’t think he was referring to Pocahontas, though you never know. Disney in Orlando, FL, by the way, if that wasn’t obvious by now.

What does a kid say in a situation like this?

Coco chose to say, “Who’s Jesus?”

Since it was already late and I (we) didn’t want to get into anything, I (we) decided to ignore it, but Coco couldn’t let it rest. I think he thought Jesus was a Disney character. In a sense he (He, if you want) is, but not one that is named in a movie. So Coco started getting more persistent and said, “I don’t know who Jesus is!”

Again, we let it go. It might have just been easier to say, “He’s the Christmas baby and the Easter dude.” Coco would have probably said, “Oh,” and let it go. But in my mind was, “He’s this character people have made up in order to feel better about their lives.” And I figured that would have been inappropriate, so I said nothing.

Big difference between first and second children. At the same age (six and change), Madge referred to Jesus as “the guy who got hammered,” because we had gone to some museums and she was fascinated by the various pictures of this naked guy on a cross.

Back from Disney

Fun times, of course.

But man, little things can sure grate.

I don't know at what age kids fathom the secrets of drinking with a straw. In case you haven't learned yet, either, DON'T tilt the cup when your straw is sucking air but you suspect more drink to be had.

Well, Coco really enjoys the tactile sensation of pushing in the little pop-up indentational identifiers on the lids of soda cups. His drinks are always all four somewhat contradictory options. Unfortunately he depresses them before taking a sip which occasionally results in a spill. He also really dislikes spilled cold drinks on his pants. So now he has two new Mickey shorts, thanks to the generous concession stand employees.

I wonder if they get a percentage on the clothing sales. "Tell them Melissa from Dayton, OH sent you! And have a magical day!"

behind again

It's tough to keep up with the blogging on vacation days because the kids always want a piece of the computer. Sorry. I'll do my best.

Meanwhile we're in the middle of getting ready for our trip to Disneyworld with the grandparents. Whoo!

Yesterday's installment included three haircuts. Juno, our hairdresser/stylist snipped his finger in the process. Luckily my dad-bag comes not only with Nintendo DSs but also with band-aids, so we were good to go.

Today's installment involves the storage unit and picking up some more summer clothes. Also dropping off some winter items. I think we won't need snow pants in 80-degree weather, but you never know.

And of course the pool. Let's not forget the pool.

Meanwhile the kids are percolating on the couch and can't wait to get packing. Only four more days, but who's counting?

baseball and beyond

We saw a minor league game last night. The Brooklyn Cyclones (our team) beat the TriCity somethingorothers (Tiger, I think, though don't ask me what three cities make up the TriCity home base). In the last inning, "we" were trailing by a run. While Madge and I were getting ice cream there was a lead-off double - jeez, I hope I'm using these brand new terms correctly - and after the bases got loaded and a guy ran in on a base hit, the number 40 dude smacked the ball over the outfielder and against the fence and that was it.

Whooo! Let's go Cyclones! clap clap clapclapclap.

The girls went home because they were wiped out, but Coco (who was wiped out too but is a sucker for late night activities) and I (merely a sucker) stayed for the fireworks. The stadium passed the time by playing a kind of beach ball volleyball, which Coco enjoyed a little too much. At first he was playing on my shoulders and then he wanted down and started running around the stands. Luckily, I reeled him in for the fireworks.

On the subway ride home, he was drowsy, but refused to fall asleep because he wanted to make sure he'd get his pjs put on when we got home. Go figure.

Two women, approaching thirty, were standing near us and one of them said, "mumble mumble gorgeous eyes." I said, "He does. Yes." She said, "No, you. You have gorgeous eyes."

Oh.

So I said, "Thanks. Too bad you can't see my ass from there."

No. Of course not.

I said, "Thank you" and left it at that. She had one of those empty mega-drink containers from Coney Island and I think it was full when she originally purchased it, so that may have influenced her judgment. Not of my eyes, of course, just of the appropriateness of her endeavor.

gummy

The Summer Hit of 2009. For us. For others it may have been the hit of 2007.

Coco Tuesday

Hm.

The schedule gets thrown for a loop during vacation time. We'll see how I can keep up.

I don't really remember what fantastic things happened on Tuesday. We went to the pool, I know that. Got rained out. Still had fun, though.

Yesterday we went to the pool again. Surprise, surprise. Coco doesn't want to walk home in his wet swimsuit, so he brings a change of clothes, but for some reason he doesn't want to change where everyone can see him so he goes to a stall and does it there. Fair enough.

When we got out of the pool yesterday, there was a guy in the showers - cold showers - washing himself, without any clothes on. I would find this unusual, but here certain people swim with shirts on. I don't think it's a religious thing. I dare say it's a socio-ethno-economic thing.

One guy even rolled his eyes at me, indicating, you know, "Pffft. Some people."

So I said, "What, did you see something you don't have?"

No, I didn't get punched. But he was indignant and said that his little nephew didn't need to see that.

I'm confused. Couldn't one just look away?

(Admittedly, it would have been difficult, because the physique of this guy had the bizarre appeal of a three-car pileup, but still.)

We'll see what exciting stories arise at the pool today.