little things

A cute thing from the kid we were watching. He was talking about his cousin who is a swimmer and is done with high school. He said that his cousin is going to "sleep-away college."

Oh, and yesterday, at the pool, I saw a useful application of a belly-button piercing: the lady used it to keep the key to her locker.

Her car keys were tacked to her tongue.
(Okay, maybe not. But it sounds like a good song title or refrain, no?)

Kid we're watching

Remember how I said he's jock-ish?
Well, I had a bit of an "understanding other people" insight recently, and thought I'd share. Though I'm not sure how thrilled I am to give up yet another prejudice.
Anyway.
He's nine, like Madge, but a foot taller. So anyone who sees him automatically and justifiably thinks he's eleven or twelve. And he's plenty smart and with it for a nine-year-old. But if you think he's twelve and then get nine-year-old responses, well, you'll start to think he's not so bright.
I have a feeling it's like that for many of the more athletic kids. Physically, they get grouped with older kids, so they have a stimulating challenge. But socially and intellectually, they might be grappling with where they fit in. And then they adjust according to people's expectations.
Anyway, if anyone messes with this kid, they'll have to go through me.

Incidentally, Coco really likes him and also fell for the size thing. He happily jumped on the kid's back (as the kid was sitting) and started to climb on his shoulders and was incredibly surprised when the kid didn't hold him. Luckily, I was nearby and caught the tumbling mess and only had to deal with Coco's furious embarrassment, but no injuries.

Coco Tuesday

We went to the Double D pool today, the first time in more than three weeks (thanks to the trip to Berlin). Fun stuff, but the weather is definitely turning autumnal. (Fine adjective, that. I even think I know the matching one for spring: vernal. But for summer? Summerish?) It's not really colder out, but the humidity is gone and you can sense that the weather is heading in a different direction. And yet swimming was fun. And Coco is quite a swimmer. He's taken Opa's example to heart and is taking his time, which is helping the smoothness of his stroke.
But his lip still quivers after a half hour or so. Luckily, he's mature enough to get out of the water and just lay on his towel in the sun, which is quite a cute sight to behold.

Germany pictures

I'm working on putting the pictures in my Flickr account (the Look C. link in the right-hand sidebar), but I'll comment on some of my favorites here.

This was the Legoland Discovery Centre (at least I think it was spelled with the British -re). A replica of the Brandenburg gate in Lego is one picture. The other is my favorite aspect. For those parents and guardians who have had enough of watching kids, there are some newspapers hanging up by tables and chairs. I think playgrounds here should have a reading rack, too.

Madge Monday

Home stretch of summer vacation. We got our school supplies and are now waiting out the last week. We have help, since we're also taking care of a "friend" of hers. I say "friend" because he's a forced-upon friend. She wouldn't have much to do with him ordinarily, since he was in her class two years ago, not last year, and he's a boy, a nice kid, but jock-ish and therefore with little in common. But the thing they do have in common is a father who is German and who bugs them by speaking German to them which they can doubly ignore: once by simply being kids and not wanting to listen, and once by claiming not to understand the language.
You'd think the common enemy would unite them...
But they're getting along fine as long as I stay out of it.

truth in branding

Julie and Madge were doing some E-Z Bake and Coco asked, "Why is it called e-z bake?" and Julie answered, "Because if they were truthful and called it pain-in-the-butt bake, nobody would buy it."
See why I missed her so much?

Coco in rare form

It's almost like someone is coaching him.
Today he was playing with some of his toys, one in each hand, making them talk to each other, when Julie said, "You really missed your toys, didn't you."
And he looked up and said,
"No, I missded you, Mommy."

We're back

And what could be a nicer gift to Julie than what Coco said to her this afternoon.
"You're much more prettier than my mind!"

I wholeheartedly concur.

und tschüß

See, I had to make use of the special keyboard one last time.
Tomorrow morning we fly back home, back to JULIIIEEEE!!!!!!
Whooooooo!
Oh, yeah, and the cat.
The kids are very excited about going back home, as am I. We had a last farewell barbecue in the grandparental yard and now the kids are asleep and I need to go, too, since I don´t know how early I have to get up to say, "Not yet."
I still need to deliver the little weenies/angels safely, and then I can take a brief snooze.
And then I get to cuddle with my wifey-poo.

After the kids, of course.

and back from the country

I still had cell phone reception, but no computer. And I survived.
A classic moment arose after the neighbor, who is a butcher by profession (though a sweetheart by nature) and who raises small livestock, brought by a recently prepared rabbit. I don´t know why, but (I think because the feet are considered lucky for all but the original owner) it still included the rabbit´s front legs. And Madge, when she went to get some milk from the fridge, asked me, "What´s that furry thing in the fridge?"
Eek.
Luckily, she´s used to furry cheese in our fridge...

whims

Today´s trip was inspired by my trip to the passport office, indirectly.
At the passport office, a week and a half ago, I took a number and went to a used book store to get something to pass the time. The thing I got was a book by Kurt Tucholsky, called "Rheinsberg: Ein Bilderbuch für Verliebte."
So, after finishing it, I figured why not go to Rheinsberg. And today we did. It was fun. Several train-rides, each less than an hour, the last on a single track (meaning that there was but one train going back and forth) led us to a cute town and a lovely castle. Maybe I´ll post the pictures and a link when we get back to NY.
Tomorrow we´re off to Gersdorf, where there is no internet and maybe not even cell phone reception. We´ll see. But people might not hear from us until after the weekend.
Could be peaceful.
Could be.

birthday

I made it. From one day to the next, I turned one year older. Last night my dad took me out to see Dieter Nuhr do his stand-up in a theater. Good stuff. The second half was more audience-friendly stuff about the battle of the sexes, but all around he´s really good. Smart and relaxed. Fun.
During the intermission we had something to drink but couldn´t find a seat because all the tables already had drinks on them, some even food, and a sign saying reserved. Apparently, you can order your intermission snacks ahead of time. What a great idea. Too bad we didn´t know about it. But the whole evening was great.
Except for the kids, who didn´t expect me to go out without them again. I think they´ll survive, but they weren´t happy about it.
Today we were at my parents´house all day, which was a fine break from being busybusybusy. And, thanks to birthday celebrations, the kids were hopped up on chocolate and cake, so the day just flew by.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Oh, and we found someone who will take the cat, Sara/Sergei, but only in about ten days, when the friend whose cat recently died returns from vacation. Now everyone is happy because we get to keep him/her for the remainder of our stay and we know he/she will get a home.
Now all we need to know is what that person´s cat died of...

kitten

The cat, by the way, is still around and is finding more adherents, but it still seems to be an uphill struggle to get the poor thing to be allowed inside.
A knowledgable neighbor said that our Sara is a boy cat. Therefore, in order not to confuse him too much in respect to his former name, I´m suggesting the name Sergei.
But no one here is with me.

buffet

Generally, I´m proud to have my food-appreciation influenced by Gordon Ramsay´s Kitchen Nightmares, but it gets difficult when other cultures (read: familial food issues) are involved.
See, we ate at the KaDeWe today after we did some brief shopping there. I thought it would be a great idea because cafeteria-style usually helps the kids. When you can´t read a menu, seeing your food is helpful. But, in the immortal words of Gordon Ramsay, it was all bleep.
I even went back because I thought that the seafood bits that had hidden in the overdone tomato cream sauce were just a tad off. Not to complain, but to try the other pasta. Again an odd cream sauce overkilled under a heat-lamp.
But somehow we had to not waste it. Not so easy, trust me. But I think it all disappeared nicely.

Messed-up blogging days again

Yesterday should have been Madge Monday, I guess. Oops.
Today Coco Tuesday. Double Oops.
Or not at all because they´re always involved anyway. Well, here´s a Coco nugget from two minutes ago. He actually shook his head depracatingly (at me) and said, "Oh, no no no no no."
The context was me telling him that I´d put his new Pokemon cards in the suitcase, and he said, "Oh, no no no no no. I mean on the airplane. I don´t want them to be where I have to wait wait wait."

Today we went to the Sony Centre (yes, I think it´s the British -re not the American -er) to the Legoland thingie they have there. Then, in the typical bargain I have to make, we went to a bookstore and they stayed quiet while I looked around in return for a bycicle rickshaw ride. So we did both.
On the way home - Julie will be proud - I acually made us get out of a train we just chased down to catch in order to validate our tickets. Yes, we had to wait a whole seven minutes (precisely seven, of course) for the next one, but we had the help of some sandwiches we had just bought.
All righty, then.

cranky daddy

Yesterday, the day after the late night, went fine.
But today I was a cranky sourpuss all day and being a guest in someone´s house, even (or especially) one´s parents´, with children around is not at all conducive to getting some time and space to get over it. So I´ll try to get to bed earlier tonight. And tomorrow we´ll be off to Legoland. Not the real thing, but a miniature version of it in the Sony Center. We´ll be getting out of the house and doing a little bit of a touristy excursion, which might be a good thing.
Today we went swimming in a nearby lake. And the kids weren´t squeamish about it, which is a good thing.
And, as an added bonus, we got to see a seventy-one-year-old man (my dad) do an involuntary impression of Jerry Lewis or Michael Richards, putting on his shorts after swimming - in the water, which only makes sense to the select few (not me) - and getting his one leg stuck in the pant leg opening while hopping along on the other trying to keep his balance. To his credit, he didn´t fall over. Though I almost did, from laughing. I have no idea why he didn´t trust me to steady him while he put them on for real.

don´t know how this will work

But my nephew is in a sailing race in Workum (in the Netherlands) and his boat´s name is "Katamaranie" and you ought to be able to follow it by clicking on this link. I haven´t done it yet, but I will soon.
PS I´ve tried it and modified the link. It´s interesting, but I´m not sure I´ll be able to follow it. I´ll just blame it on the speed of the DSL hookup my parents have.

out late

I didn´t know I still had it in me. I was out until about 4:30am last night, or rather this morning. Partly because the reunion was more entertaining than I had expected and partly because my parents live in such a comparatively suburban location and public transportation takes a while at that time of night.
Memories arise of course and so I was feeling guilty on my walk home from the train stop, though I don´t know why. And then, when I came to the front door, the dog didn´t make a sound.
But Sarah, our stray, was mewling at me nonstop.

She´s not just cute, she´s a guard kitty, too.
And we´re still working on getting her a home around here.
But I am not a cat person, I tell you.

I´m beat

I played soccer this morning with an old friends and his new ones. I feel like I´ve been replaced.
Oh, well. The kids came along and watched. And then I let them play outside the gym we were in and they came back with their hands covered in berry juice. Fun all around, I guess.
The only downside is that I limp a little now because my shin clashed with someone´s heel. My fault, really. Oh, and I´m a little tired.
And now I have a class reunion to go to. I might fall asleep on the subway or, better yet, in conversation with one of the more scintillating attendees.
Wish me luck.

kitty

We had a very exciting day, mostly because we lured a stray kitten into my parents´backyard. I´ll call her a she even though we never really bothered to find out. I wanted to call her "Hertha" after Berlin´s soccer team, but Coco is insisting on "Sarah," which seems to be his all-time favorite female name. Why, we don´t really know, unless it´s because of our former upstairs neighbor on whom he had a crush.
Anyway, we did our best to make the cat feel welcome and let her sleep on the porch and snuck some food off our plates to her and let her pee in the flowers. We think she might be someone´s indoor kitty and is probably less than a year old. Black and gray with a white belly and the cutest triangle on the chest. Not that I´m a softy for cats or anything.
Anyway, the kids were having a hard time saying good-night to her because I told them she can´t come inside and we just have to hope that she enjoyed our company enough to come back again tomorrow.
We´ll see. I honestly don´t know what would be better.

swim day

Today was very hot for Germany, a bit like a Brooklyn July day with less humidity.
Since my family listens to the weather every day, we were prepared and had planned to go to the outdoor pool, along with the rest of Berlin. And still it was less crowded than our usual "Double D" pool. Cool stuff.
As an added bonus, the rules here are looser, and they still have DIVING BOARDS! WooooHooooo! That is one major drawback to the pools I´ve been to in the states.
Coco upped his doggy paddle to prove he could swim in the big kid pool and matched Madge jump for jump. Though the slide in the medium-sized pool was more his style.
Still, it was great fun. And, as so often with swimming, the kids wore themselves out, which meant that, until Coco crashed, everyone´s nerves were a bit on the frayed side.

big kid keeps impressing

Today we took a longish S- and U-Bahn (public rail above and below ground) trip to a friend of mine. During one of the transfers Madge saw food and proclaimed she was hungry, so we stopped to eat. She hadn´t whined about it before and she wasn´t pushy about it.
Just, matter-of-fact, "Daddy, let´s eat something here. I´m hungry."
She wasn´t even fussy about the food and corrected the saleslady when she was handed the wrong sandwich.
It´s that matter-of-fact assertiveness that, I think, is impressing all around.

The friend, btw, is the one with the kid who is Madge´s age but without a linguistic connection. And still everyone played well. And even watched TV together.
So far, so good.

busy, busy

Since it´s Tuesday (I think), I´ll lead with an observation of Coco´s this morning. "There´s no trash on the street," he remarked. And rightly so. I guess that´s unnatural for him.
And Madge is just rocking over here. She is such a stong and strong-willed kid, it´s amazing.
We hung out with a friend of mine and his son. The son doesn´t speak English, Madge doesn´t speak German. At one point I looked up from talking to my friend and saw that she was dragging him along by the wrist (he´s a year older than she) to show him something.

This afternoon was social, the morning more bureaucratic. I was at the German passport office. When I got to the waiting room after taking my number and slipping out to a used-book store there was a minor commotion because a few kids were looking at a trapped bat and one of the official ladies was clamoring to call someone authoritative. Or, to be exact, someone of a different authority than hers. While she was telling the kids to stay away (not mine, they were with Granny), a different lady, a tiny thing with dyed blond hair and a name like Frau Mischnik (if I heard correctly) came in and muttered the equivalent of "oh, come here, you poor little thing," picked up the stray bat and carried it outside.
Unfortunately, the brief high of the rescue action was deflated by some chick on a cellphone simultaneously swooning and complaining about her recent move. I had an urge to take out my cell-phone and talk during her breaks, immediately answering her conversation, but I chickened out. Largely because I had no audience.

Let´s call that reason number 422 why it sucks that Julie´s not here.

posting from Germany

Does the post smell anz different?
In case zou couldnät tell, the kezboard here has some different features, so I mess up on z and y and occasionallz add an Umlaut - one of these beasts: äöü. But that´ll improve soon, I think.

We´re here without Julie, which is a big waaaaaah! for all.
To top it off, the airport seemed to feature a late-eighties tear-jerker slow-jam sound-track.
(I´m hyphened out now.)
Songs I hadn´t heard since I originally left Germany, by the likes of Lionel Richie and Simply Red etc.

Sad stuff. But the cell phone works, so that´s good.

travel day

Big day for us. We've already checked in, thanks to the magic of the internet - which still astounds me. And we've already had a few rounds of tears about leaving mommy and the cat. Luckily, the tears are more about mommy, as it should be.
Coco's lack of time sense is striking again, since he doesn't want to have lunch here, he'll eat at the airport, he says. But our flight is at 7pm. Sometimes he does the same with using the bathroom. Let's hope today's not one of those times.
Madge now has a sense of time, so she's upset about being without mommy for two weeks. I think it'll be okay. We'll see. I got a loaner cell phone from Verizon that, they say, works in Europe, so we'll be able to call anytime, anywhere. We'll see.
And of course today is a beautiful day here in Brooklyn. Not muggy, not too hot. Hard to leave.
But we're set to go.
And I signed up to be at my high school class's 20-year reunion.
Let's go have some fun!

Further Research

See? Not that you didn't believe me, but Chartreuse is a liqueur. Herbal and sweet. I know the latter because one of the local wine shops let me sample some. The problem for a lightweight like me was that this happened at 10:45am. But I've had a nap since then and am doing just fine, thank you.

In some countries, religious orders forbid drinking. In other countries, the religious orders make the drinks. If I were inclined to monastic life, I think I'd settle in the latter.

getting ready to travel, again

Today the kids got haircuts to be presentable and to get out of the house. Otherwise we'd just be obsessing. We keep rehearsing timelines and possible activities. What I don't think the kids can wrap their heads around, though, is how much chillier Berlin is in relation to Brooklyn. Lower temperature and less humidity.
We'll see how much luck I'll have in convincing them to pack long sleeves and maybe even jackets. (I saw rain on Monday's forecast.)

Creedence

"Susie Q" was playing on the sound system at Rite Aid. It's one of those songs where I don't even notice that I'm singing "I like the way you wawk, I like the way you tawk, Suseh Q" out loud.
I didn't notice, but the sales-girl-going-on-woman did and said, "It looks like someone likes the music."
Not completely snapping out of my trance, I said, "Well, yeah. It's Creedence. Everyone likes..."
Then I saw her smile, which was borderline condescending, the kind you have for the foibles of the elderly. So I switched to full-fogey mode and said, "Give them a listen. You might actually like them. You just need to turn it up louder."
Somehow I doubt I made a convert.
Maybe if it had been "Born on the Bayou" or "Green River."

Coco Tuesday

I've realized today that his swimming is pretty good. It's mostly doggy-paddle, but occasionally his butt is near the surface and he has some real forward momentum. It also helps that he doesn't seem to care or worry about getting to the edge, he just keeps moving along. Which is, after all, the key: not to freak out and just gently glide along.
Too bad the pool keeps serving lunches the kids don't like. More tuna sandwiches for me.

On another note, he's working on making himself fart, so make a trifecta out of burping on command and cracking his knuckles. But the potential for accidents in his latest endeavor is what worries me.

Madge Monday

Time is such a distorted thing. Her actual birthday was last Tuesday; the party was on Sunday. (It was on Sunday because Kids 'N Action is, well, a jewish Chuck E. Cheese and therefore Saturday is off limits.) Anyway, it seemed like her birthday was long gone by the time the party came around. For me, that is. For the kids it was all still fresh.
But now I'm birthdayed out.

another idol passes

This time it's Johnny Griffin.
When I had lessons with a guy in Oakland, he asked me whose playing I liked, I told him, "Johnny Griffin." The choice was simple because I'd never heard bop played in such an understandable way until I heard Johnny Griffin (on some TV thingy in Germany). JG mixed speed and accuracy with an easy bluesy accessibility, and I loved it. Julie and I once saw him at the Showcase in Chicago, and even she, who considers most jazz to be pretentious "bwee-doo-bwee-daah" stuff - rightly so, I find - really liked him. (So much so that she's the one who pointed out his passing to me. Thanks, Julie.)
There were - and are - others I'd like to emulate, but I wanted to go with a not-too-obvious choice to impress my teacher.
He just wiped his forehead and said, "You'd better start eating a lot of grits."
I was twenty at the time, so of course I went to the grocery store and got me some grits.
I should get some today in honor of JG.

and, since learning never ends

Here's why that Dictionary of Phrase and Fable is so fun (for me).
Looking for Danae, I stumbled across Chartreuse. Other than just a color, it's actually the named after the liquor made at La Grande Chartreuse by the Carthusians (which has that color). And in England the name of Carthusian Houses was bastardized to "charterhouse" because of this relation.
This information will be ever so useful in everyday life.

learn with me

We're doing a sort of book club with Madge and some friends. The book is Chasing Vermeer, and, honestly, it has too random a conclusion to it, if you ask me. Still a fun read, though, considering.

Anyway, I'm chasing Vermeer in my own way and one of the books from the library had Rembrandt as context with this painting in it, depicting Danae.

My Classical education is skimpier than her outfit, so I decided to look it up in one of my favorite reference works, Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase & Fable.

It turns out she's the mother of Perseus, and got impregnated by Zeus when he took on the form of a gold shower. Or a shower of gold. Either way, it boggles the mind. I know myths can get bestially and symbolically kinky, but that's just weird.

Coco Tuesday

A bit overshadowed by Madge's birthday.
He was a great sport about everything. Wished her a happy birthday right away and was excited about all the presents and not in the least bit jealous. How can this be my child?
We decided to go to the American Girl (trademark, blah, blah) Place to use up a gift certificate and tacked on a birthday lunch with dolls. Very worthwhile, especially because you can borrow a doll to sit at the table and eat with you, which Coco did - and, in restrospect, Julie and I should have done as well.
Good stuff, except for the 4am wakeup "I can't sleep. I'm too excited."
So we held her off until 6.

Madge Monday

We've got a birthday coming up tomorrow and when Madge is impatient about something, she goes into a hedgehog-like hibernation, rolled up in a ball with the prickles pointing outward.
In other words, it's near impossible to get out of the house and other than watching TV, there don't seem to many activities we can do that don't involve snipping.
But tomorrow it'll be good, I think.
We've been able to keep the blabbermouth five-year-old out of the loop sufficiently that she can't pry him to divulge secrets. And we're trying to get him to tell her that we got her boxes of crackers. Too bad he won't.

Directions

Oh, boy, I feel bad.
On our way back from the pool, a car stopped and asked us for directions. I had (and still have) no idea where the Day's Inn is, but when they said, "Carroll Street," I jumped into action. But here's the problem: although the actual street named Carroll Street was just a block away at the time, for some reason my citified mind was thinking of the Carroll Street subway stop and I send them about a mile away, which got extra complicated because some streets don't cross the canal, so you'll have go to the next light and then turn right and then after the canal you can turn right again and you'll see it soon.
After they drove off I realized what I had done and said to Madge, "They said Carroll Street, didn't they?"
And she said, "Yes. I was wondering why you sent them so far away."
But then the car turned left at the light, not right, and it all didn't matter anyway.

I wonder if that might be some broader (or deeper) allegory, right there.

plumber

We had a leaky drain and I called a plumber. It all went well, thanks for asking.
But while we were waiting, Coco was in continuous (and increasingly angry) disbelief about the whole thing.
See, in Ben 10 (the TV show), the group that fights aliens calls itself "Plumbers" and Coco kept trying to tell me that they are only on TV and not in real life.

Once I explained to him that it was a joke of sorts on groups like Shriners and Masons, he conceded the point. (Okay, maybe not.)

exhaustion

After the week in Florida, we basically stayed indoors all weekend, sleeping and recuperating.
Now we have rediscovered the Double D pool and have been going daily. But this year we don't have the running stroller, so the youthful ones are quite exhausted every day. Which wouldn't be so bad if it didn't lead to interminable bickering.
Child A whines and Child B whines about the whining, whereupon Child A chooses between anger and increased whining - usually a mixture of the two.
And yet we have fun.
Some of the pool workers have recognized us from last year and have wondered where we've been, to which I could only say, "The pool was closed for the winter and we hadn't made any dates, so..."

Coco Tuesday

While a (almost) nine-year old is big enough to go on rides on her own, a five-year old is still little enough to believe that all the characters are real - he even goes out of his way to explain the zippers he sees on their backs or to explain why some have really light arms and others have arms that feel like ours.
Luckily, adults never try to explain away the obvious.

Madge Monday

Disneyworld is as educational as any place, if you look for it. The one thing Madge really picked up on was time management. As in, "A 40-minute wait for the Peter Pan ride? No, thanks."

And the shocker for us, well, the picture will tell you: she really is big enough to do things on her own. Disney says so.

New Diet

It's called the Disneyworld Diet and it's simple.
Just surround yourself with people who have about fifty pounds more on the same skeletal frame as yourself and you'll feel great.
It worked wonders for me!

all packed up

We're off to Florida tomorrow, for five days of Disney-inspired insanity, whooooo!
We cleaned and packed today and we finally got the kids to go to sleep. They have instructions not to wake us before 6:30, but we'll see.
So no blog for about a week, unless I get some moments away and find a computer. But I am taking my old man pad - my new old man pad because my old old man pad got left in my shorts in the laundry, shorts that had to be tossed because I left the pen, too; oh, well - so I might be taking some notes.
Have a good week!

more reading aloud

By the beard of the prophet, this book choosing isn't going my way, I think.
We finished Tom Sawyer just in time to coax the kids to explore Tom Sawyer Island in Disneyworld. (See, contrary to popular opinion, I can plan ahead.)
So I picked Arabian Nights to read aloud. The Richard Burton translation - no, not that Richard Burton.
Anyway, if you've read it, your gasp is justified.
It starts out with concubines and fornication with blackamoors and subsequent betrayals and robbing of maidenheads followed by decapitation of the deflowered brides.
And then, finally, Sheherazade steps up to save the day - or night, rather. I couldn't wait to meet her.
Let's just say that I mumbled a lot during the opening chapter.

Happiness Levels Checked

According to this BBC article, Denmark is the world's most happy nation, Zimbabwe the least.

Of course all this needs to be qualified. This information comes from the 97 nations that participated in the U.N.'s World Values Survey, which "asked people two simple questions about their happiness and their level of satisfaction with life."

What two simple questions could sum this up for a nation? At this level of abstraction, it could be any two questions, really.

1) If you could put together your perfect dinner party, whom would you invite (since this question is hypothetical, you are welcome to choose deceased personalities)?
2) Would you serve Gandhi chicken or beef?

But no, the questions were obviously such that a Dane would answer "happy" and a Zimbabwean (Zimbabois? Zimbamboodle?) "unhappy." How about

How do you celebrate a national election?
How do you feel about Greenland actually turning green, thanks to global warming?

It seems like the World Values Survey is just an excuse to make up discussion starters for sleepovers. (We'll see once I can actually get to the site.)

wasn't us

I saw this item in the NYTimes and can only say that
a) We weren't even near the Met yesterday.
b) We never touch artwork when we're in a museum.
c) It was already chipped when our racquetball whacked it.

upcoming dates

I don't know about you, but I tend to be a little behind on upcoming events. I know it sounds oxymoronic, but there's a feeling I get of not being ready in such a way that I know, when the event comes, I'm going to have to apologize for not having done it right.
And the thing that reminds me of upcoming stuff the most is when food I buy happens to have an expiration date that is the exact date of the upcoming event.
For example, I didn't realize that I'll be turning a year older pretty soon if some Denhay Farms cheddar cheese hadn't reminded me of it.

Coco Tuesday

Usually, reading a book that makes you laugh out loud is a good thing.
But
when you're around your kids all day...
"Daddy, what are you laughing at?"
"Hmm. Well, okay, this is sort of on your level. Listen to this: 'Nobody said anything, but T. J. Lambert, our big old defensive end from Tennessee, hiked his leg and made a noise like a watermelon being dropped on concrete out of a four-story building.'"
(It reads smoothly here, but once I got to "concrete," I was snickering and giggling and by "four-s-s-s-tory building" I had tears in my eyes.)
"Why is that so funny, Daddy?"
"It's a f-f-f-f-fart!"

And I was right. It is just on Coco's level and now I have to say "hiked up his leg and made a noise like a watermelon being dropped on concrete out of a four-story building" about three to seven times a day.
It still makes me laugh.

The book, by the way, is Semi-Tough, and it's by Dan Jenkins. Highly recommendable if you're not above potty humor. And yes, I am now laughing silently at the racial and sexual stuff in the book.

Madge Monday

This weekend my daughter said to my wife:

Daddy f**ked the cat.


Properly punctuated, it might have to read, "Daddy 'f**k'-ed the cat." But still. Yikes.
What happended was this. I was sitting on the floor, watching TV with everyone else when that stinker of a cat came from nowhere and bit my hand. Since this act surprised me, I jerked away my hand and exclaimed, "F**k you!" I agree it was uncalled for. Sorry, everyone. But the cat's Cato-like secret attacks have a long history and I really never asked for them and, frankly, I'm rather tired of them.
In Madge's mind, to f*** someone is to say the f-word around or at them. Hence her statement to Julie.
I guess I have some ssplainin to do.

the notebook strikes again

I do get to overhear juicy bits, after all.
For example, today: "Mommy says that a woman's parts need some air."
I guess now I have a conversation opener next time I hang out with this girl's mom.
(But thanks to this blog post, Julie might not let me.)

belated, but safer this way

School is out now. Last day was yesterday. Yippeee! Double overtime for Daddy.
So far so good.
I finally put on my cargo shorts again, which only concerns you inasfar as it means I'm carrying my old man notepad with me.
The first gem is something that came up when I talked to a little friend of mine who proudly told me he has two mommies. When I asked him if he had a brother or sister, he said, "I got a brudder." When I asked if the brother was big or little, he said, "He's a ogre brudder."
I smell the title of a kids' story there. The Ogre Brudder.

But I also found an older note in my notepad. It is something I overheard:
"Hit Grammy. Am I forgiven?"
The context was morning dropoff and the Grammy had accidentally scratched the kid's neck while fussing with some clothing. In response to the kid's unbelieving open-eyed pre-cry stare she held out her hand and asked to be hit. Once wasn't enough for her, but after a few smacks, she finally asked to be forgiven.
Issues In The Making for 500, Sigmund.

EuroCup 2008

Let's just say papa wasn't happy for a while. During the Germany-Turkey game, the picture disappeared. It was obviously an issue with the feed, but the mind-boggling part was that the ESPN announcers weren't talking about the game as it was unfolding. It led me to believe that they were not actually in the stadium or that they lack the ability to verbally describe a sporting event. In this case it would have involved a lot of "the ball is tapped around at midfield. A stab is made towards the penalty area, but another sloppy pass made it a fruitless effort." Throw in some names and I would have been happy.
Also, they were able to show the fanzone and the fans' reactions therein, so the fanzone was obviously getting a feed. Why not have a camera aimed at the fanzone screen?
Blech. It was frustrating. And then they came back and a goal had been scored by Germany and out again and back in for some cheering for a goal by Turkey. GrrGrrGrr.
And ESPN is TERRIBLE at giving replays. They're cut way too short. All you see is the 0.214 seconds leading up to the ball crossing the goal line. Nothing of the lead-up. Amateurs.

Before the game, I had asked the kids what they wanted for dinner and they offered their usual overpriced suggestion: Hibachi! And I promptly shot it down, of course.
But then, during all the outage frustration, I figured: let's have someone at least have an enjoyable afternoon. So I said: "Tell you what. If Germany wins, we're having hibachi." See, it was tied at that point (two minutes before the end of the game) and I was trying to prep them for overtime. They're still learning about game-watching patience.
But then everyone won. (Except the Turkish team. Everyone in our apartment, I mean.)

New old song I love

There's an Argentine singer, Carlos Gardel, of whom they say that his voice gets better every year (he's dead; they're nostalgic; it's supposed to be funny).
This guy is Silvio Caldas. iTunes spells it Sylvio and I "accidentally" bought an entire album of his. I was tired and wasn't paying attention to which "buy" button I was clicking.
But, man, what a worthwhile thing. First listen: eh. Then, however, it grows on you.
And this song is just awesome. On the album I downloaded he's much younger and has an orchestra backing him. But this thing here is exquisite. Any song that's a waltz in a minor key has a head start, in my opinion. Add to that his old, wobbly vibrato and stiff-ish playing (still remarkably fluid compared to mine, mind you) and, finally, the visual package and you've got a winner.
Enjoy.

Coco Tuesday

It's the little things that drive you crazy.
This week is the last week of school for the year and Coco keeps saying that he wants to stay home. It makes no sense. There's basically nothing going on in school except parties and feel-good sessions and he wants to play hookie!
A slightly different problem I'm seeing is that he has a crush of sorts on Madge's best friend. He's only five and he's already working on a laugh that is meant to encourage her conversation and attention. It's funny to me since it's so obviously fake, but he sure doesn't take kindly to anyone snickering at it. Whooee.

More Madge

We finished Treasure Island a while ago. I use the pronoun "we" loosely since she fell asleep a lot during the readings. Now we're quite far into Tom Sawyer (actually The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, which means you need to search for the title in the "a"s) and I'm slowly beginning to master the trick of keeping a level tone and not letting my voice or demeanor catch at words like "Injun" or "nigger." Tonight it was difficult because I. Joe got retrospectively outraged at having been horsewhipped like, well... I think she was asleep by the time we got to that part, though.

Madge Monday

I'm baking again. And I'm not a big fan of baking when it's hot and sticky. But what can you do, it's the end of the school year and picnics and parties and whatnot ask for cookies and biscuits and other yummies.
And now we're not only suffering from the added heat but from flared sugar-tempers and tears.
Fun stuff.

Hangman

Madge and her friend were playing hangman today.
At first I was getting upset because they weren't actually trying to guess words in a strategic way. They were actually guessing letters in alphabetical order, can you imagine? Not in order of probability. Oh, well.
Then I finally realized that it's a game and they're just messing around.
So I didn't even intervene when they had the brainstorm of using four-letter words.
_ u _ _, for example, or s _ i _.
I didn't even correct them when they had this spacing for a word: _ s s _ _ o _ _.
I figured they'd learn the difference between whole and hole soon enough and this was not the context for me to intervene.

it's almost like you're there

Except that you can fast-forward.
Madgie shows up from 3:22 to 4:16 and again from 6:02 to 6:30.
End of year excitement, I tell you. I missed it, but Julie got to be there.

"My" Award

An anonymous reader who calls him- or herself "Mama" writes:
"Did you get an award too????? or just went for the fun of it. Mama "
"Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me!" won a Peabody. I work for the show, so I got to be a part of it. Peter (the host) generously let me go up on stage with the rest of them, which was quite awesome.
But "I" won the award only in resume-speak, in which I could also say that on Monday I had lunch with Heidi Klum. We both had the roast beef and the salad. She talked about her shoes.

Madge Monday

I was at the Peabody Awards yesterday and was wonderfully ignorant of all the big names around me, so I politely nodded whenever someone leaned in and gasp-whispered "That's soandso."
But it did see a writer for "30 Rock" slip a dinner roll into her purse, for later. Writer's pay doesn't go far, even on a network show, apparently.
Julie took the day off to be with the kids and when I called home to tell them I was coming, Madge said, "Don't come home."
The day after father's day, she stabs me in the heart.
But I knew it was because they were watching TV and didn't want me to make them turn it off.

Friday the 13th

I don't know how, but I had a dental appointment today, Friday 13th.
It went fine, though it turns out I hadn't been since '05 - my, how time flies.
Since the bit of a filling I had to receive - for a chip that probably happened from brushing too hard (don't worry, I'll never tell the kids that you can brush too much) - didn't require abstinence from eating afterward, I stopped on 32nd Street (Korean Way) for some Korean food.
Mmmm-MMM! That marinated beef stew with the pickled thingamagoobers on the side was great. Though I think what made it great is the same thing that made me crash and take a two-hour nap when I came home the MSG. I'm just guessing.
And this is where the tragedy of Friday the 13th struck (unless, of course, the whole shebang is superstitious nonsense): I slept through thee of the four goals in the France-Netherlands game.

a quest

I promised the kids I'd go to the toystore to get some erasers.
I went.
They were sold out.
I asked the people at the store to write me a note, saying, "Your daddy was here and asked for the erasers. We don't carry them at this moment."
They laughed at me.
And I was left to face the wrath of the disappointed offspring on my own.

New Link

My friend George Wilhelm now has a website, where he's showing some work for sale.

He's quite good - not just as a person in general, but also specifically as an artist. Check it out.

The thing in the picture is a ring. We are seeing it from the top - i.e. the setting of the stone is a hand.

Coco Tuesday

I keep forgetting to post Coco's succinct sountrack.

"Plop. YOW!"

That, according to Coco, is what it would sound like if a man gave birth through his youknow.

Don't worry, I'm not going "heavy"

But I finally remembered to look up where the title "The House of Mirth" comes from, since so little in the book is mirthful - though very well written and very worth reading (Edith Wharton, in case you didn't know and want some summer reading).
Anyway, it's from Ecclesiates 7:4 (after penalty shootouts; 1:0 at halftime and 2:2 final).
I've appended the context, though reading Ecclesiates is a bit like quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson. Emerson's best quotes say, "Do it yourself," so quoting him seems to be missing the point. And Ecclesiates is always pointing out, "All is vanity," so why bother?
Anyway:

1A good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the day of one's birth.
2It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart.
3Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.


4The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.


5It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise, than for a man to hear the song of fools.
6For as the crackling of thorns under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool: this also is vanity.
7Surely oppression maketh a wise man mad; and a gift destroyeth the heart.
8Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof: and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.
9Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry: for anger resteth in the bosom of fools.
10Say not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better than these? for thou dost not enquire wisely concerning this.
11Wisdom is good with an inheritance: and by it there is profit to them that see the sun.
12For wisdom is a defence, and money is a defence: but the excellency of knowledge is, that wisdom giveth life to them that have it.
13Consider the work of God: for who can make that straight, which he hath made crooked?
14In the day of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity consider: God also hath set the one over against the other, to the end that man should find nothing after him.

You ask, I deliver: a picture

In case you couldn't tell, the ones with the legs sticking out of them are the new ones.

Aaah. New sneakers. Tennis shoes in the real sense of the word. And by this week they're already squishy, soft and comfy.

Madge Monday

Lately, part of the bedtime routine has gone very easily. A bit too easily.
So I not only asked Madge, "Did you brush your teeth?" to which she replied, "Yes," but I followed it up with the irresistible, "Really?"
And she broke down. Not literally, though the recent drama (Mommy's out of town) would not leave that out of the question.
But she confessed and we were back to the old, "Do I have to?" "I'll do it tomorrow," etc.
Then, a while after she brushed, I did a smell-check and had to reprimand her for not using toothpaste.

And in very little time she'll start accusing me of not trusting her.
At which point I'll blog about it.

a big plus

The benefit of being a stay-at-home parent is that it is slightly more possible to juggle one's job with international soccer games. Group C games should be very interesting today. Let's hope the kids co-operate.
Can you say, "Computer time"?

more on PALP

Parents as learning partners, that is.
I overheard this snippet from a kid to one of the teachers:
"Would you like to meet my dad's girlfriend?"
And then, because I am older and wiser and more mellowed, I did not hear,
"Only if you think this one will last."

learning partners

This morning was another Parents As Learning Partners, the last of the year - my, how time flies (like an arrow, according to Perelman, while fruit flies like a banana -- zzing!).
Anyway, it was a poetry recital. Fun stuff. Of course they were basically droned out, but that's not the point, really. Hopefully something will stick about how words work together and create a flow and rhythm and imagery and... how bloody awkward it is to stand in front of people and repeat words you've been forced to memorize and don't really believe in much, yourself.
Oh, well. I do hope some of the original pedagogic stuff sticks, too.
They recited in pairs and acted the poems out, which was great.
One pair of kids even chose William Blake's "Tyger, tyger" - a poem which I've never gotten and still don't see the greatness of, but there you go. I've always been but off by rhymes like "eye - symmetry" and I don't know what kind of a tiger Blake has seen that burns bright.
Still, a fun morning, full of drama and suspense.

Old man: me

My sneakers had the usual wear and tear at the heel. Then we got caught in a brief rainstorm (not to worry, we played Indiana Jones as we crossed the torrents at the street corners) and my sneakers got filthier than ever. After washing them, two eyelet rivets had fallen out and I also saw that the right sole had a gash in the middle.
So I acknowledged the inevitable and went to find some new shoes. "New" being a relative term since I went in the store, pointed at my shoes - I never said I stopped wearing them - and said, "I'd like these again."
They had 'em and I bought 'em.

Give me a few years and I'll probably buy six pairs of 'em just to make sure I can beat the odds of their obsolescence (and inflation).

The shoes are a blazing white - except for the green lime icee spots and the brown milkshake spot. In the first outing! Darn.

Coco Tuesday

We had a double playdate today. And although Coco was as cute as always and played well with his friends and later got wet with water balloons after shouting at me for taking the kids to buy swimsuits and get home too late for the "sprinkeler" to be on, this post isn't really about him.
It's about the au pair.
Apparently she has to go back to Ukraine for two weeks. An emergency, as far as I could tell from her demeanor. She lacks the English words for a situation like this but, as I understand it, her Ukrainian professor got arrested. Apparently she's still enrolled in classes there in order not to lose her spot while overseas. And now, because he's been arrested, she doesn't think that the school will honor the bribe her mother paid to insure that she would still get grades and now she has to go back to take her finals. Now, I'm still trying to find out whether the professor got arrested because he took bribes or for something worse, but she doesn't find the situation as humorous as I do and I'm still busy trying to be sympathetic.

Madge Monday

Madge Libs, we should call them. Her best friend called her today and played Mad Libs over the phone with her.

The other day she asked me why I like this friend of mine and I explained that this friend is like mommy in the sense that she's easy to hang out with, not demanding, and I don't feel like have to talk all the time. And then Madge said, "You mean like with [name withheld]?"

That kid sure is observant.

Skin doctor

Went to the dermatologist today because my wife is concerned about my moles.
Turns out in his many years as a doc, only once has a woman gone because her man was concerned, while about 99.92% of his male visitors come on the urgings of their female guardians.
My moles are multiple but harmless. However, when you draw lines between them just right, you get a miniature replica of the "Rape of the Sabine Women." Go figure.

getting big?

Coco wanted to be left at home today while I went to get Madge from school.
Nothing doing, pal.
And on the way to school this morning we ran into a friend of Madge's who was walking to school unaccompanied by parents.
What is it with kids growing up?
Be responsible and adult about the things I don't want to be involved in, like heinie-wiping and endless going-to-sleep routines, not simple things like walking to school.
In general, I've noticed - with the change in the weather and the ensuing change of wardrobe - how much bigger the kids have gotten over the year. Yikes!

Coco Tuesday

Selective finickyness is driving me crazy. For instance, Coco has no problems playing in water fountains or puddles or with water balloons, but as soon as a clothing item gets wet, he wants to go and change it. I'm doing more laundry than ever before, it seems.
Oh, and then, because of the relation of Omnitrix (the accessory that makes Ben 10 turn into various alien hero identities) to Coco's wrist, he'll really only sleep in one set of pjs, the fleece ones with the footies - in seventy-plus degree weather.
At least he's got his priorities straightened out.

Madge Monday

We seem to celebrate Memorial Day by watching a lot of TV - it accomodated Coco's love for staying in his pajamas. Madge was watching an ad for a bag which can all of your things (and then some). "Never misplace anything! Ever again!"
To which Madge said, "What if you can't find the bag?"

Belated Coco Day

Today he had a pajama party in class. Pajamas and pancakes. I and a(nother) mom were roped in to help. The kids were impressed with my pancake flipping abilities. Don't worry, I didn't flip them until they were fully cooked.
The great thing about pajama day is that we got to school ten minutes early because I didn't have to fight with Coco about getting dressed. Maybe he should wear pajamas to school every day.

quickie

They all have to be lately, because the NBA playoffs are eating into my evening time.
I'm still trying to figure out who to root for. Yesterday, at my guitar lesson, I was reminiscing with my teacher (who played in a band with me in Chicago) about "our" Bulls. Steve Kerr, Tony Kukoc, Luc Longley, and, yes, Rodman and Jordan (oh, and Pippin - but that's been his bane, no?). Fuzzy TV. Getting upset with Reggie Miller's three-point shooting, Patrick Ewing's interminable post moves...
Ah, good times.

dear phone solicitor

Please explain the use of the word "imperative."
How is it imperative that I give you a call at the 800 number you leave on my machine,
when you clearly didn't take the time to find out whether or not I have a car loan in the first place?

Madge Monday

Finish the rhyme:

Only a dunce
thinks you live once.
Please know that we lice
strive to live -

pleasepleaseplease let it be "tw" and not "thr"

Yep, Madge is home from school again, with some stinky solution in her hair.

Julie rides again

Can you imagine Julie on one of these?

Well, apparently that's the only mode of transportation they use near Arles to visit the rice fields that supply L'Occitane's products.

We, meanwhile, did some face-painting and puddle-exploring.

Reading at night-night time

I'm not sure if I recommend Tom Sawyer or not.
I love the book and am excited to be reading it. But I'm too excited and I laugh at turns of phrases that Madge is ignoring and then she becomes more awake and alert and I have to explain things. But if I read in a boring tone of voice, she doesn't want the book at all and it's a much better read-aloud than Treasure Island was.
Reread it if you have the time. It's worth it.

Stuck

The sibling thing again. Eek.
This morning, Coco was doing "Eeny, meeny, miney, mo" (or however it's spelled).
Obviously, since he just learned it, he keeps getting it wrong. And Madge jumps in to "correct" him. But with that "you idiot" undertone - hell, overtone.
And again I'm stuck. She obviously doesn't know all the times we held our tongues when she erred in the process of learning. How could she? We held our tongues. So she seems to think that all we ever do is tell her she's wrong (or right). The uncommented-upon things are non-events on her horizon. As a result, she thinks she's just doing to (with) Coco what we did and do to (with) her.
He deals with it fairly well, though. And she feels bad when she makes him too upset, so I should just keep out of it.

Coco Tuesday

Coco has a new way of drawing faces. He makes a circle for the head; two dots for the eyes; then two sides of a triangle for the nose, to which is attached an arc of a circle for the mouth. (I'd post a picture but the camera is in France with Julie.)
When I said, "That's really cool. How did you figure that out?" he answered, "Five-year-olds know a little bit of stuff."
Exactly.
An example of what he knows: "Theo A. says that two plus two is three. But two plus two is one."
There you go.

Madge Monday

Madge was confronted with this problem: What Mother's Day gift do you get a mother who works in the industry that sells pampering products for women?
Her solution: bring home a case of head lice.
Inventive.
The upside was that I got to spend a quiet evening watching basketball and combing nits post-shampoo. Now I know why moms like playing with their girls' hair. It's lovely.

finally, the memethingie

Here are the rules:Link the person who tagged you.Mention the rules in your blog.Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged.

Here are the quirks:
I try to know rules, but only so I know which ones I’m breaking. In this case it’ll be the last three.
My preferred nose-picking digit is my thumb.
When reading aloud to the kids, I consistently (accidentally) substitute “when” for “then” and vice versa – though I can stop myself from doing it if I really concentrate.
I invariably find songs in a minor key and ¾ time pretty.
This might be a subcategory of the first quirk, but I don’t try to be right all the time. It’s just that I feel I’m correct so rarely that I want to be sure I am when I really am – which makes me sound like a smartypants more often than not.
I love slapstick. I love the kids. I love Julie. (Though I think the latter two may be "spectacular" rather than "un-.")

a quickie

Before I tackle the tagged thingie that Megan sent my way.

A quote from the brilliant "The House of Mirth" (I merely abridged it and changed the tense and taken it out of context, but I'm sure she meant it the way I'm taking it):


It is easy enough to despise the world but decidedly difficult to find any other habitable region.

so proud

For the first time ever, I broke a guitar string. Well, technically, the change in temperature and humidity broke it because I wasn't actually touching it at the time, but I think having played on it quite a bit prepared matters. It scared the crap out of Julie and me, occupied with quiet activities. Julie, of course, maintains that it was a ghost or something supernatural since the cat often seems to be seeing things. I'm going with physics.
Same with the streaks of blood on the wall.

Coco Tuesday

In similar news, Coco has recently said that he wishes he had an older brother. Not instead of a sister, I think, but in addition to. See, all his friends with older brothers have a vaster array of blasting toys and a deeper knowledge of all things "Hyuh!"

Madge Monday

Madge has been a little bitter lately, snapping at Coco very quickly.
When Julie said that Coco can be a real pain in the youknow, Madge was completely suprised. Maybe she thinks we think everything he does is cute.
And of course it bugs her endlessly that he got to borrow a Leapster cartridge from HER friend's little sister and won't let her play, especially because he doesn't play it right and she's much better at it.
Ah, siblings.

sem compromisso

This is the song I've been learning lately. Joao Gilberto's version of it. Here it's the composer singing (the younger guy). I don't play it very smoothly and I have a tendency to cuss when I mess up, so I wonder how the kids think the song really goes.
"Quando toca um samb-, quando toca um sa-, *&^1! quando toca um samba, e eu lhe tiro pra dancar..."

how I spend much of my time lately

I hear a song like this and when everyone is asleep I painfully transcribe it and try to hunt down the lyrics somewhere. I haven't been lucky finding Paulinho da Viola lyrics, though, so I'm thinking of recruiting some parents from Coco's class. They're Brazilian, so they might be game - I've already recruited the mom's help in translating a Chico Buarque thingie (for which I found the lyrics online).
Here's the song. Get back to me in a month and I might be able to play the first verse at half speed.

hide your magnets

We have a magnet on our door, given by a friend.
It's a picture of Marie Antoinette, and it says something about not being remembered for being a great ruler and it ends like this "but f**k one horse and you'll always be remembered as a horsef**ker."
The reason I don't know what the beginning says but do know the end is that we have removed the magnet because Madge has taken to reciting the last bit.
Probably because I'm only now getting myself under enough control to not burst out laughing every time - only every third time.

Coco Tuesday

Coco is starting to cover some sort of astronomy in his class. He's telling us about different planets, and we haven't told him about that, since we're still debating whether to teach creationism or that's-just-how-it-is-ism.
Lately, on the way home, he's been noticing that we don't get dizzy even though the world is spinning. To which I say, "Speak for yourself, kid" and fall down.

Madge Monday

Cute all around. Rainy, so we wound up staying indoors, but I had the foresight to buy some balloons and we made Madeleines - they even turned out quite well, though we had to fight off a sugar-high.
But we had that first-born thing - or just the older kid thing, I'm not sure.
Madge was reading while Coco and I were playing something he made up with the balloons. It looked fun to her, so she wanted to join. He didn't want her to, but we talked him into it.
Then, about a minute and a half into playing the game in a triangle rather than back and forth, she decided she wanted to change it. Where does that come from?

speaking of "no girls"

One day, Netflix sent us this.

The envelope says, "Little Britain Abroad," which is was we ordered. The disc says, "Raging Stallion Studios Sexascope: Chute."

Why, you ask, do I have a picture of this? Because, even though I sent a message saying that we got the wrong disc, they sent it back with a note saying that we mistakenly sent them a "personal disc".

Hm.

And here I thought this must be the "recruiting" I've heard so much about.

sans les filles

Just us boys today, since the girls are at the office - it's "take your daughter to work" day (really "take your kid..." but the age limit is seven and up).
We got some water balloons and let loose at the park, freely sharing with others.
This three-year-old obviously needed help with his balloons and for some reason - probably via transposition from "Coco" - kept calling me "Poke." Cracked me up every time.

oh, and...

During the nursing of the wound, Coco asked how long it would hurt. "I don't know" is not an acceptable answer* so I said "eighteen minutes" and set the timer. This seemed to help, though after the elapsed time he wasn't quite satisfied with the result and called for an emergency application of extra TV time.

*I learned this often, of course. Most recently when he asked me, "What is the last number?" And I said that numbers are cool in that way because you can always think of one bigger and he just asked again and I asked him if he meant how high can I count. This registered a little; he seemed to think he was getting somewhere with his dense dad. So I said, "The highest anyone could count is up to one hundred and twenty seven. If someone wants to count to one hundred and twenty eight, they can't do it."
This answer satisfied him and we went back to talking about Ben 10 Figures and which ones he wants and why he can't have them but Santa might bring them or he can get them for his birthday...

and again

I was trying to get away from posting about kids, but on their vacations I don't really get away from them much.
So you get to partake of our drama.
Tonight we were cooking. And because one of them cried when the other asked to join in on the fun, we made separate meals. Coco made mine and Madge made theirs. Mine was left-over noodles fried with some butter and onions and garlic. Theirs was "fresh" noodles with creamy red sauce. Yes, our menu is varied: some nights penne, some gemelli, occasionally farfalle...
Anyway, I was directing traffic when Coco decided to turn around and watch Madge, briefly resting his wrist on the frying pan. ... His attention was drawn to Madge because she had just dropped some noodles on the floor and was trying not to burst out in tears - she actually excused herself, saying, "I'm going in your room because I need a moment." This would have been hilarious if it hadn't followed on the heel of other highly emotional moments strategically placed throughout the afternoon. ... And it would have been funnier if he hadn't burned his wrist, of course.
So the rest of the evening was spent nursing a wound that the patient didn't want touched or looked at.
Julie tends to call in the middle of moments like this, but luckily for her and us, she had called about fifteen minutes before.

Coco Tuesday

Coco may have allergies or is just sensitive to pollen in the air - I'm not sure where one draws the distinction nowadays. He keeps rubbing his eyes and asking if they are red, which is better than what he was asking at first, namely, "Are my eyes still in?"
eek.

And the other day, when laying on the couch with Julie, he said, "Why are they called pillows? They should be called 'softers'."
right he is