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Thursday, December 16, 2010

The Elves Have Left the Building

My illustrious and all-knowing wife helps me out quite a bit, and has for about a decade, plus.

This is no surprise.

And furthermore it's no real surprise that she helps me out with this here blog, by putting the sprog's activities to paper and giving them to me to blatantly misrepresent faithfully record.  It's usually an email or a scrap of paper entitled "Blog Notes."  Well, bingo.  This week has been long on work, short on time.  So you'll have to be content with Blog Notes with snarky (and arguably explanatory) Notes to the Blog Notes.  Duly noted?  Okay, then, herewego:

i told jack this morning that i was going to the doctor today.  i said "the doctor is going to look in my ears and nose and mouth and listen to my heart.  jack said "and she's gonna measure you!"

Majesty has been sick almost pushing one of those fortnight things, after catching the funk from Jack.  She's now generously given it to me.  The kissing.  It's gotta be the kissing.  It has to be stopped.  I digress.  Anyway, unless you're about 12, and your final adult height is still clouded by some uncertainty, most docs seem to just forego the whole measuring thing.  H.M. told me after the visit that, just like the little swami predicted, she got measured.  I demand to know how he learns this stuff.

jack's new favorite instrument is the bagpipe.

Uh, yeah.  You'll remember in The Twelve Days of Christmas where the eleven pipers pipe?  Majesty reckoned that JMW had never seen a set of pipes, well, ever.  Enter YouTube, and people bored enough to upload bagpiping videos.  They're out there.  Jack now walks around clutching big butterfly ornaments from the tree, their long wires stuck in his mouth, making the most awful of noises.

jack's "ice skates" - you need the picture to go along with this.

 The Lego phase has begun, as expected.  But I never planned on my son teetering on 2 long, straight, black Lego 4-blocks, gingerly balancing himself while he scrapes around the room, yelling EYE SKATINDG!  EYE SKATINDG!  And nope, I don't have the picture with me.  Promise I'll post documentation for this as soon as I can.

today i think he was doing "chin-ups" like daddy.  he was standing on 2 cans and holding on to the island, and counted everytime he popped his head up above the island.

jack's saturday out with daddy.

(Again, a very sick) Majesty needed to rest last Saturday, so Jack and I went to our local park.  It doesn't hurt that it's about 90 seconds away, either.  He was great, playing in the dirt, on the big kids' playground, on the little kids' playground, and pretty much everywhere in between.  The weather was fantastic, and I didn't even mind that he BASE jumped off of the tippy-top of the big kids' equipment (I caught him in mid-air, halfway down.  It was an awesome grab.).  Or that he tried to eat some abandoned orange slices off a park bench (disaster averted by about a picosecond).

Along the pathway there's one of those neglected sets of chin-up bars, the old metal ones with three different heights.  Neglected because they're not as much fun as an Xbox, let's face that.  Desperate to fill time, I grab Yakubu, setting him on my feet so he can grab one leg or other.  I manage about 8 or so of the most painful reps in memory.  Is he eating lead fishing weights when we're not looking?

Was it coincidence that I did an all-time personal best on chins the next morning in the gym?

Majesty has had to deal with several dodgy Christmas ornaments over the years that rub her fur exactly the wrong way.  Like those featuring The King.  They play music.  They're tacky.  I love 'em.  So we ended up teaching Jack who Elvis was.  And the rest is history:

i was telling jack today about santa's helpers at the north pole, the elves.  jack thought i said "elvis" so now he thinks that elvis helps santa make toys... maybe he's onto something?!

It would explain where he's been since 1977.  At some point after reading this, you'll find yourself as I did, sitting in your car, imagining this going down in Santa's Workshop:


You can't escape.

2 comments:

Cindy Deister said...

I love how you two are saving these stories of your son! I didn't record like that, and now that the boys are teenagers, I need to be able to look back and remember the toddler years! Great blog, thanks!

Jennifer said...

Very much enjoyed the dual blog post. Hope Elvis helps Santa make the right toys for Christmas. You know, I could swing by and drop of a set of bagpipes for J.