Archive for January, 2010

Not Right Now

Friday, January 29th, 2010

Dinner at Pei Wei (a Chinese restaurant) is quite an experience with a five and a seven year old along. On a good day, which is what we had this past Saturday, the kids are feeling experimental. Suddenly, all those ordinary foods that we barely even notice become magical and new.

Noodles are slurped or turned into lassos. Chopsticks become crab claws. Lettuce wraps become, well, lettuce wraps.

After the meal, we cracked open our fortune cookies. My youngest’s said “There is beauty in everything, but we don’t always see it.”

The little guy turned very contemplative after reading that, and as we were leaving the restaurant, he tugged on my hand. “It’s really true, Daddy! Everything is beautiful.” That’s my little guy – the world’s oldest five year old.

“What?” his older brother said. “What do you mean?”

“Like momma,” I said. “She’s beautiful, but we don’t always pay attention.”

The boys looked at me uncertainly. My wife turned around to look at me with that flat expression she’s worked so hard to perfect.

I did what all guys do when they’ve dug themselves into a hole. I kept digging. “Momma’s beautiful, right? But we don’t always notice.”

The boys looked at their momma.

“Am I beautiful?” she asked.

“Well,” my oldest said, gesturing broadly with his hands. “Not right now.”

And suddenly, just like that, I was out of the hole I’d dug for myself.

He’s such a good kid.


Revealing the Magic Secret

Monday, January 25th, 2010

One of the few magic tricks I’ve mastered is the “pull something out of your child’s ear” classic. I do it so well, in fact, that it’s become the source of a running disagreement with the boys. I say that whatever comes out of their head belongs to me. They say it belongs to them.

The other day, however, it seemed as though the whole thing was going to come to a screeching halt.

“I know how you do that,” my youngest announced.

“Oh yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “And I know how you do it.”

“How?” I asked.

“You sneak it into our ear earlier, when we’re not paying attention.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Like when we’re asleep or something. You sneak stuff into our ears, and then pull it out later.”

“No,” I said, flashing back to a certain French Fry incident  (click here to read it), “I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” he said, still suspicious.

Looks like get to enjoy pulling things from ears for at least a little while longer.


Tag, I’m Out

Friday, January 22nd, 2010

Today’s tale is in the Seminole Chronicle. Click here to read it!

Terms for Searchers: playground, tag, pink, shirt, kissing, wrestling


Sweet, sweet revenge

Monday, January 18th, 2010

Our kids wake up early. Every day, regardless of what is happening, they are up and out of bed way before the rest of civilized society. A few years back, we actually enacted a “don’t wake us up until 6:30″ rule, and of all the rules of the house, this is close to being the most unbreakable.

This past Saturday, however, they slept in. 7:00am rolled around, and they were still sleeping soundly in their beds. On many Saturdays, this would not be a problem, but they had a cross-country meet at 8am.

I opened their door very quietly, and peeked in at the sleeping little angels. “Pssst,” I whispered. “Time to wake up.”

The youngest raised his head blearily.

“Time to get up,” I said softly. “Cross-country track meet”

“I’m sleeping,” my oldest grumbled.

“Oh,” I said, sorting through their CDs. “I’m sorry.” I selected one and put it in their boom box. “Is this too early for you?”

The little one sat up. “Daddy, what are you – ”

I hit play and cranked the volume. “WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!” filled the room.

“Ahh!” the youngest shouted and jumped out of bed, laughing.

“Daa-aaady,” the oldest groaned. “It’s too early!”

I tapped the bed twice and clapped in time to the music.

Ah, sweet revenge.

Revenge for what, you may ask. For this, I answer, for this.


Cane and Able

Friday, January 15th, 2010

Before getting foot surgery, my wife purchased a cane. The idea was that it would help her get around once her foot had healed enough for her to be off crutches. Unfortunately, the healing process took much longer than we’d expected, and the cane sat unused in the kitchen.

One afternoon, as we sat at the table, our youngest picked up the cane and started walking with it. He hunched his back over and made a monkey face. “Look,” he said. “I’m an old lady! An old lady!”

Everyone burst out laughing. So, of course, he continued his routine.

“Okay,” my wife said after his third pass. “That’s enough.”

“You mean you don’t like being called an old lady?” I asked.

She glared me into silence.

Her foot is much better now. She hobbles around, only occasionally having to grab for tables or walls to help support her. She has yet to pick up that cane, however, and I’ve a sneaking suspicion she never will.