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Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Thanksgiving Knickknacks

I should do a proper Thanksgiving post, but here I am, a week out, and I find myself with precious little Thanksgivingy type stuff in my head.  My tummy?  Yeah, there's plenty of Thanksgiving stuff(ing) down there, sure.  But I've kind of moved on from the holiday.  Just imagine I did a mind-altering, comprehensive, tell-all Thanksgiving post.  There.  It's almost like I REALLY DID.  But I think you're going to get Quick Hits today.  Sorry.

Issue No. 1:  How does the Ittybitty Girl know precisely when Jack gets up in the mornings?  At 6:19 AM she is rolling around and muay thai kicking H.M.  Jack's already bumping around upstairs.  They're not (uh like, as far as we know) twins or anything...  But have they forged some sort of weird, unexplainable telepathic bond that they'll eventually use to defeat and control us?  Anyway, that's worrisome.  The very last thing children need is a secret weapon to triumph over the old folks.

Issue No. 2:  Jack had a cold last week.  "My neck hurts" is how he described his "throat" hurting.  Semantics.

Issue No. 3:  Majesty co-hosted a friend's baby shower one Saturday back.  Jack and I bolted out of there before the estradiol reached lethal levels.  We sauntered over to the Children's Museum and built the largest Lego structure I've ever been personally responsible for (I was structural engineer/design consultant on the project).  Jack could easily become a Lego real estate magnate.  The mom and her son next to us kept glancing over worriedly.

Issue No. 3 1/4:  We sat in a stripped-down Chevy S-10 on display, which was way cooler than it sounds.  We looked like two cops on a stakeout.  Jack also learned the names for all the buttons.  I worry now that I've given him the information he needs to break into and hotwire my car.  Anyway, we finished up our day with a trip to Coldstone for ice-cream, something that I'm not sure he's ever done, at least with me around.  The little turkey obliterated his cup of strawberry and then demanded some of mine.  Of course.  Sure, I'll do anything for my kid(s).  But giving up a whole quarter ounce of Sweet Cream and Snickers did give me some pause.

Issue No. 3 1/2:  The folks at the house (for the baby shower) included 2 extraordinarily well trained music teachers.  Jack had the time of his life siphoning off all the superdupersecret music knowledge they would share with him.

Issue No. 4:  Majesty's been teaching the sprog all about outer space this month.  (I'm trying to get Pigs In Space into the curriculum.  No dice yet.)  He's already naming the planets on his fingers, which was sort of cool to watch.  Hilarious, too:  JUPITUW... SATUWN... MOOKUWY... UWHF.... He pretends to be an astronaut and we blast off, from in front of the fridge, sitting in his little white chairs (the ones that nail my spine right on the T12 - it's like flying coach on Continental Express).  I provide blastoff sound effects, and was pretty pleased with my ability to rumble.  Just to bring it all home to him, I was taking the trash out one night, and noticed what I'm about 67% sure was Jupiter in the eastern sky.  He really dug looking at the bright spot in the black sky and declaring, "JUPITUW!  It's BIIIIDH [big]!!"  Sure is, big guy.  Sure is.

Issue No. 4:  Just finished up a semi-big deal remodeling project at the house.  After a brief explanation that Mr. Tylor is not an electrician but rather a contractor, Jack logically wanted to know:
"Does he drive a tractor?!"
Issue No. 5:  Jack's obsession with soap is bordering on mental illness.  He decides that dumping an entire bottle of hand soap in and around the toilet and on the wall an hour before friends arrive for the weekend would be a swell idea.  Another time, he dumped an entire bottle of vaporizing baby shampoo into a clay cup Majestad made in grade school.  Jack then set the cup on his book case.  Gravity ensued.  I could NOT for the life of me figure out where the unmistakable, elementary school janitor's cat litter vomit soaker-upper smell was coming from.  Soap oozed from the cup all morning before we discovered the mess.   Thanks to another of my very favorite physical forces - capillary action - the soap crept halfway up pages of just about every one of his books, ruining some for good.  Curious George Rides a Bike, we hardly knew ye!  Good riddance, you daft monkey!  You can't stay out of mischief for like, 7 seconds?

Issue No. 5 1/2:  Some questions, here:  Why exactly do we have so many bottles of soap?  Why are we so afraid of dirt?  It seems to me that cleanliness is overrated.  And who is responsible for buying baby soap in Old Lady Menthol-Cigarette flavor?  This person should be reprimanded.

Issue No. 6:  One weekend we went to the annual Children's Festival they have here.  Pure genius, that was.    Jack ran down a steep hill with a small parachute strapped to him.  Think NFL training camp.  He saw Thomas the Tank Engine.  He had his face painted.  He tried to brush a bald spot onto the side of a live pony.  He looked for "gold" (really just U.S. coinage) in a monstrously large sandbox.  He made bracelets - and this was the real focal point - with high school girls' help.  He had newspaper and masking tape hats made directly on his head.  And bestest of all, he got to make a kaht.  I mean kite.  Flew it pretty deftly, too.  I'll leave it up to you as to who had more fun doing that.

Issue No. 7:  Thanksgiving.... we stayed put at home, had excellent food, and my parents came down to visit for a day or so.  Was really great to see them, as always.  I ate so much that I almost fell asleep right in my gravy.

Quote of the Week
A Sleepy Jack One Morning:  "I want to watch Sesame Street... scratch that... I want to watch Bob the Builder."
Where does he get this stuff?

Short Conversation of the Week
(Upon seeing some old friends from our former church this weekend)
Gal That Naively Offered to Babysit Jack:  I'd love to!
E.C.:  Great.  Better bring a Clif Bar.
Gal That Naively Offered to Babysit Jack:  You're kidding.  He eats those things?!
E.C.:  No, no.  It's for you.

2 comments:

Jennifer said...

My mother thinks J is "da bomb". She enjoyed getting to spend time with him.

El Comodoro said...

The feeling is apparently mutual.