Love Thy Neighbor

There is nothing like being comfortable in your own skin.  Coming down the steps of the church after mass on Sunday, Ethan made this proclamation.

"If we're supposed to love our neighbor as much as our self [sic], then I must love my neighbors a lot!"

Well, at least we know he's paying attention.

- 23 October 2011

The Holy Ghost

I realize that Justin was only approaching his third birthday but, somehow, I couldn't help wondering what we might have been doing wrong where his religious education was concerned.

"He's gonna get bad guys from the ghost?"

Baptized, Justin.  Ethan is being baptized!  And stop referring to the priest as a ghost.

- 5 October 2003

Eat Your Heart Out, Dr. Seuss

"Why are things hot and cold?" he asked.

I didn't even have time to formulate a response let alone draw the breath necessary to utter it.

"Some things are hot all by themselves...and some are not...and worms are slow...and spiders are fast."

Well, Ethan, it's sounds like you've got a handle on things.  I am going to go back to driving now.  Let me know if I can be of any additional assistance...or any in the first place, really.

- 19 November 2006

Bronco Brouhaha

Ethan came to me, slightly distressed, to clear up a lingering doubt.  He and his older brother had been playing "horsey".  For reasons unknown, Ethan was the horse and Justin was the cowboy.  While many of the finer details remain deliberately sketchy, I do know this...they had reigns...made out of string...in the horse's mouth.

"Will the Tooth Fairy still come if Justin yanked it out?"

- 18 June 2008

My Favorite Game - Part 2

After our most recent round of How Long Has It Been? I couldn't resist the temptation to see what would happen if I turned the tables on Ethan.  As we drove to Moscow, ID on a mid-day errand, I threw this question over my shoulder into the back seat.

"Hey, Ethan.  How long has it been?"

Boy, I thought I had him.  Without the slightest hesitation, he replied,

"19 minutes."

Rats!  I couldn't even argue with him because I was certain that, if I had asked, "since what?" he would have said, "well, you didn't tell me."

- 24 November 2011

My Favorite Game

Recently, Ethan has developed a habit of asking the question, "how long has it been?"  Since what, Ethan?  Since the last time you asked?  Since you were born?  Since Tuesday?  Despite the fact that I usually know exactly what he is talking about, he needs to learn how to ask a proper question as it relates to time.

This line of questioning always surrounds the sharing of an electronic device (TV, computer, video game, etc.) with a sibling.  It is manifested by a failure to recognize one's position in the universe as it relates to time and space and is a frequent occurrence.  The actual question being asked is, "how much longer until it's my turn?"  Typically, Ethan knows each person's allotment and can figure out when his turn will be as long as someone can tell him how much time has elapsed since his last turn.  Don't I have enough to keep track of?  That's why I could only shake my head when he came to me this morning.

"Dad, how long has it been since I've been off the computer?"

Just a moment, I'll consult my notes.  Let me see...Thanksgiving day...you're using the computer in the basement...I'm on a different level of the house talking to four other family members...Ah!  Here it is...no idea.

"I don't know, Ethan.  When did you stop?"

"Five minutes ago."

"I'd say its been about five minutes."

"Oh.  Okay."

I wonder if he understood what just happened here.

- 24 November 2011

Not So Hot Lunch

After announcing that we would be switching to cold lunches, I was greeted with this response from my first grader.

"I'm kind of glad we're done with hot lunch.  But I'm kind of not glad because there are all those yummy hot dogs for little boys to eat, like M-E."

Yeah, that's kind of what I was afraid of.

- circa 2009

[Update] And on That Note... [Video]

"What would you like me to sing?" used to be such an innocent and easily answered question.  I have a sizable collection of songs that effortlessly outpaces the boy's determination to remain conscious.  If they can't remember the title, all that is required are a few words or a snippet of the tune and we are back in business.  Logan, however, stood that theory on it's head. 

As you know, I was recently caught off-guard by a request to sing a previously unknown song called Big Monster Snake.  In a slightly bewildering twist, I would come to find out that there are not only words and a tune but hand motions alike.  That's correct...hand motions.

This is a song that has assumed a life of its own.  It has, in fact, been added to our permanent repertoire.  It can be sung by every member of our family, is frequently and spontaneously performed at the dinner table and will most likely be passed down for generations to come. 

Hatched, fully formed, in the mind of a three-year-old, this nine word ditty speaks volumes about the loves of a little boy. 

• Favorite pastime - weekly fires on the back patio.
• Favorite candy - Tic Tacs.
• Favorite food - cauliflower, followed closely by broccoli and green beans.
• Favorite stuffed animal(s) - three monster snakes measuring 15 feet when laid end-to-end.

The first video is difficult to hear but it contains the requisite hand motions.  He is singing quietly because I had just spent the better part of fifteen minutes telling him to lie down and go to sleep.  If he's quiet...maybe I won't notice that he is still awake.

"Fire, Tic Tacs and vege-ta-bles.  Big mon-ster snake...whoa, whoa, whoa."

"Fire, Tic Tacs and vege-ta-bles.  Big mon-ster snake...whoa, whoa, whoa."

- 22 November 2011

Team Ashley

My wife, Ashley, will do just about anything to avoid facing a needle.  One evening, while working in the kitchen, she cut her hand quite seriously.  I knew that there would be no way to spirit her off to the ER for stitches short of clubbing her over the head and dragging her off by her hair.  Certainly the idea had merit, but she was an adult and there was no time to find a club. 

My only other recourse was to give her a hard time with the hope that I would be able to guilt her into going.  The point when I realized I was fighting a losing battle came when my three-year-old shouted,

"You're making my mother crazy!"

Then he pummeled me.

I'll see about that club.

- 18 May 2004

Mandatory Play

As I arrived home for lunch this afternoon, I was greeted by a boisterous salutation emanating from a boy riding up the street on his scooter.

"Dad!  Dad!!  Hi, Dad!" he hollered as he turned into the driveway.

"Hi, Justin.  How has your day been?" I asked.

"I saw you drive past me just now.  You know, over by the church.  You yawned," he informed me.

"That sounds about right," I chuckled.  "I'm glad to see that you're playing outside."

"Mom told me to run around the block two times before I could come back in."

Gee, I'm shocked.

Note the word run in the last statement.  This was a detail which I had failed to translate at the time and was not alerted to until I recounted this incident to my wife.  I believe her exact words were, "What?  He's on his scooter?  I told him to run!"  Oops, sorry Justin.  The aforementioned yawning was not due to general lack of oxygen.

"Did you irritate her?" I asked, expecting the answer - yes.

"No," he stated turning his scooter around. 

I raised my eyebrows.

"I scared Logan."

I lowered my eyebrows. 

Justin began to roll down the driveway and I began to roll my eyes.  As the back of his head disappeared around the corner at the end of the block, I heard him shout.

"Well, technically, yes!"

Punk!

- 21 November 2011

Hey, That's My Line!

It is not difficult to ruffle a five-year-old's feathers.  Some have cultivated the process into an art form.  Others, a sport.  For me, perhaps a little of both.  On this day, in particular, I had managed to tip the scales and Justin rounded on me as I followed him down the hall.  Stopping dead in his tracks and wrinkling his brow he said,

"Look at my face.  Do I look happy?"

No you do not...and I suppose your face is really not enjoying being laughed in.

- 28 August 2006

Starbucks

Occasionally, we travel out of town to do errands that we cannot do at home. The two hour round trip drive takes most of the day but we do our very best to make it enjoyable for all.  However, in order to make these trips worth while, we pack a lot into the itinerary.  Our oldest boys take turns quizzing us about the number of remaining stops and whether or not they will be permitted to stay in the car.  This time, however, it was Logan who took up the torch.

"Are we going to another store?" came his plaintive question.

"Yes," I replied.

"How about Starbucks?" he suggested hopefully.

How did you come to ask that question?

"What could you possibly want to go to Starbucks for? You're three.  How many times have you been to Starbucks?"

"59 years."

That's what I thought.  Between you and your brothers it feels like we've been on this trip for 59 years.

- 30 October 2011

Varying Degrees of Interest

Could it be said that I am interested in everything that my children say?  Yes, in varying degrees.  Does that mean that I sit in silent wonder awaiting the next lexical pearl?  Hardly.  I am rarely permitted time to sit and seldom gifted with silence.

Perhaps this is where I stumbled. 

Had I been listening more attentively I may have been privy to the entire conversation unfolding beneath me.  Instead, it stood my hair on end to hear this statement echo up the stairs from where all three boys were playing in the basement,

"No, Justin!  No!  Nothing lights on fire!"

Remember that Justin!!

- 17 November 2011

Apologies for my Stupidity

Anyone who has met me knows that my sense of humor takes many forms.  Most often it is dry with a sarcastic, and sometimes derisive, edge.  Apparently, I have passed this trait along to my sons.  All three of them.

This morning, my preschooler appeared at the bathroom door while I was brushing my teeth.

"I had a night dream," he said to the floor.

I know this to mean that he had a nightmare.  His face wore a pitiful look that was, undoubtedly, supposed to elicit great concern on my part.

"What was it about?" I asked innocently.

How could I have been so stupid?  Was his meaning unclear?  It was a nightmare, it can't have been good!  He looked up at me in utter disbelief.  Shaking his head and using a semi-sarcastic, sing-song voice he said,

"It wasn't about a party."

Chuckle.  No, I suppose it wasn't.  To all appearances, my line of obtuse questioning was making for a poor conversation.  He left and I never did find out what happened.

- 16 November 2011

Pay Attention, Please

We had occasion to visit the Oregon Undersea Gardens during a trip to Newport one summer.  There was no shortage of fascinating diversions including, fish, crab, sharks, octopi and even a troupe of mermaids. 

True to form, however, my five-year-old son was having difficulty focusing on anything in particular.  How could a boy of that age (of any age) be expected to focus on what was happening beyond the glass?  It was so much more entertaining to reach out and touch the people sitting next to him...and join in their conversations...and study his own two wiggling feet?  See how easily they bounce off of the chair in front of us?  I wonder why that man keeps turning around and glaring?

Truly unaware of how much Ethan was actually taking in, or not, I sat listening to the presentation.  When the narrator arrived at the portion regarding the Pacific Octopus, it all became clear.

"...they are the masters of disguise," said the voice over the loud speakers.

"The skies?!" Ethan exclaimed in horror.  An absolutely stricken look arranged itself across his face.

"You mean they can fly?"

Oh, brother.  I can't wait for a telephone call from his science teacher.

- 22 June 2008

A Whole Different Slice

"Can I have a cut up pear?  It's true what they say...I'll eat anything."

Because, as everyone knows, in five-year-old-world, a sliced pear is an entirely different fruit than a whole pear.

- 7 February 2009

New from Hasbro

Our expressed purpose for traveling to WSU this weekend was to take Justin to a football game for his birthday.  This fact, while not a secret, was not widely discussed in Logan's presence.  The general tenet for a three-year-old boy with older siblings is thus: what's good for them is good for me and should be provided in ample quantities forthwith...hurry up.  Sadly, this philosophy was not to be put into practice.

Logan would not be going to the game and I could tell that the time to break the news was nearly at hand.  The conversation around the dinner table was reaching a fever pitch.  Justin and Ethan were very excited, repeatedly quizzing us all about the time remaining until departure. 

"36 seconds sooner than the last time you asked," became my mantra.

Logan followed the conversation around the table like a tennis match, carefully planning his point of interjection.  Before I had a chance to head him off, however, it became apparent that none of the three were eating.  Time to kill two birds.

"Only boys who eat a good dinner will go to the game," I announced.

Logan immediately sat up in his chair while Justin and Ethan began shoveling.

"Logan, you get to stay here with Mom and Grandma," I added quickly.

My suspicion that this would be of little consolation was confirmed when his face fell and he dropped his fork.  I was prepared.

"You can play Candy Land," I suggested.  We had had quite a spirited game earlier in the day and he had been keen to play another round.

A split second's contemplation was all he was afforded before the conversation took a turn that even I didn't see coming.

"I like Candy Land," Justin stated.

Since when?

"You do?" I asked, not bothering to mask my skepticism.

"Yes!  Especially with the tree snipers," he enthused.

Oh?  Not just regular snipers?

"And the candy cane grenades," Ethan added.

Naturally.  Who wouldn't?  I, too, enjoy a lively game of Guerrilla Candy Land.  Gloppy, the Molasses Monster, leading Special Forces against the evil Lord Licorice is a sight to behold.  Is it possible that Hasbro has missed a marketing opportunity in this demographic?  I'm afraid to ask about Hungry Hungry Hippos.  Good luck tonight, Ash.  See you after the game.

- 12 November 2011

I Have Other Plans

"Are you going to be president someday, Justin?"

"No, I have other plans for my life.  First, I am going to MIB (Men In Black), if there is such a thing.  If not, you will see me in one of the spy areas."

- circa 2008

Well...Almost

"I'm tired of it, quite frankly," I said, expressing my exasperation with Ethan.

Ethan, being only three, thought he had me backed into a corner.

"I'm not Frankly!  Frankly is a turtle."

- 5 November 2006

And on That Note...

Singing songs to the boys, after putting them to bed each night, is a treasured part of our bedtime routine.  Even after eleven years, my oldest son still comes in to listen while we sing. 

We have a very large repertoire which includes songs from my own childhood.  There are certain standards we sing every night and towards the end the boys are allowed to choose.  Occasionally, I will make up silly verses to familiar tunes.  This practice, though highly popular, is reserved for special circumstances as it tends to incite an uproar.  Once in a while they will throw me a curve ball by asking for a song that only my wife knows and vice versa.

On this particular evening, it was Logan and I, alone.

"What song should I sing next?" I asked him.

"How aboooooout Big Monster Snake?" he said.

How calming.  This benign little ditty must be a song that Ashley knows.

"I don't know that one.  Can you sing it for me?" I asked.

There was a great deal of fidgeting accompanied by some humming as he struggled to get a handle on the tune (and the covers).  Suddenly, he burst out with,

"Fire Tic Tacs and vege-ta-bles.  Big mon-ster snake...whoa, whoa, whoa."

I was caught completely off guard and failed to stifle my laughter.  Undeterred, he repeated the verse, determined for me to catch on and finish the song.  After breaking the news that I was completely unfamiliar with this charming composition, we decided to bring song time to an end.  I tucked him in and kissed him good night.  As I left the room, I couldn't help but wonder, "what have we done to this child?"

- 5 November 2011

Ventriloquist Dummy

This morning, like most others, we made our way out to the car for the morning commute.  Logan, herded along by Justin, piled in and plopped himself down in his car seat.

"Buckle me up, Justin!" he shouted.

"Nobody is going to do anything, young man, until you start using some manners," I scolded.

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease," he sang.

The age of three affords Logan quite a bit of license when it comes to his oldest brother, but even he can only push so far.  Justin dutifully began to fasten the car seat straps.

"Yeah, I'm getting kind of tired of that," he told Logan.  "And all the complaining and whining about "I want, I want, I want"."

"It's always me, me, me, now, now, now with this kid," he said in my direction. 

Had my mouth been full, I would have choked.  For a moment I paused.  I don't remember saying anything but that sure did sound like my voice coming out of Justin's mouth.

Gee, Justin, I have no idea how you feel. 

Is that not the exact same order that I use those words in?  A quick check of my mental notes confirmed my suspicion.  "Phrase applied frequently and with great liberty to Justin and Ethan...and eventually Logan."  It was mine!  That must be why is sounded so familiar.  Oh the irony...and the copyright infringement.  Time to enlightenment: 10 years, 360 days, 22 hours and 28 minutes.  Best of luck, Justin.

- 9 November 2011

School Pictures FAIL...Again

This morning, at the breakfast table, things were beginning to ramp up in their usual manner.  Volume was loud, spirits were high and Rice Krispies were flyin'.  In an effort to keep a lid on the situation, so I could finish making lunches, I reminded Ethan (and the room at large) that he had better settle down.  Indeed, there was still the matter of the picture fiasco from the previous day hanging over his head.  Immediately, the older boys fell silent.  They even managed to hang their heads in a show of apparent remorse.  Points for effort gentlemen, but you don't fool me. 

After a moment's pause, Justin lifted his head and said,

"Um, Dad?  Now that Ethan has told you about the pictures, I need to tell you something."

Well, at least let me fasten my seat belt.

"What is it?" I asked tentatively.

"You know how Ethan had his picture taken in his undershirt?" he hinted.

Oh, here we go.  I tried not to roll my eyes.

"I'm aware," I said.

"Well, I sort of forgot too."

Surely you can not have forgotten the same thing.

"Forgot what?" I asked.

"Forgot to put on my sweater," he replied.

Seriously!  What is this, Groundhog Day?  Who am I, Bill Murray?  I swear that the last thing I did before bed last night was have this exact same discussion.  Hold on a second!  I seem to remember Justin insisting on wearing something over his sweater.  You know, something cooler, fashionably speaking.  This confession may not be going in the direction I thought.  Yes, yes, that's it...I'm wrong!  Why not?  It happened once before...it was bound to happen again.  Hooray!

"So, what did you have your picture taken in?" I asked hopefully.

"My undershirt."

Oh, holy buckets!  1, 2, 3, Not it!

- 8 November 2011

School Pictures FAIL

Ethan had just climbed up into his bed and I was finishing Logan's bedtime songs when a warning sailed down from the top bunk.

"Uh-oh, Dad."

"What is it?  What's the matter?" I asked.

"I forgot my sweater," he answered.

"When?" came my slightly exasperated reply. 

Despite being a champion player, Guess What/Where/When? is not my favorite game.

"At pictures today."

Oh no.

"You mean you didn't wear your sweater for your school picture?" I asked, hoping that I had fallen asleep on the floor and hadn't yet realized it.

"No," he said.

"What did you wear?" I asked.

"What was underneath it," he said, quietly.

Sigh.  As if I really had to ask...

"What was underneath it?"

"My undershirt."

"Do you mean to tell me that you had your school pictures taken in your underwear?!"

"Uh huh."

This is bad.  This is very bad.  But also kind of funny.  What my wife and I cannot seem to figure out is how he forgot about his sweater when he took it off during PE.  He forgot about his sweater after PE, while it was clutched in his hand on the way back to class.  He forgot about his sweater when they called his class for their pictures...and when they called his name...and when he sat on the stool...and when they said "smile".  Instead, he hopped into bed at 8:30 that night and that's when he remembered his sweater.

"Well, who's gonna tell Mom?" I asked.

1, 2, 3, Not it!

"You can," he said, very politely. 

An air of finality accompanied this statement as if to say, "it's been lovely chatting with you...you're dismissed."

Right.  Okay.  I've lived a good life.

"Hey, Ashley!"

I relayed the information from the opposite couch as we sat together in the living room.  Ashley had just returned from kissing the boys good night.  Somehow I felt that the timing was better as opposed to breaking the news first and then sending her off to kiss them farewell.  It's a shame, really, to spoil the first peaceful night in a long time with news such as this.  To my surprise (and alarm) she didn't say anything.  After her face did a chameleonesque color change she said, very calmly,

"You know, I was just looking at his baby picture on our dresser.  Remember how cute and chubby and happy he was?  And now all I can think about is how I'm going to have to kill him."

- 7 November 2011

Here Kitty Kitty...Litter

It occurred to me that, in three years time, I have never changed the cat litter box until after Logan was already in bed.  This fact was brought to my attention when I suddenly found Logan at my elbow.  He was staring at me wearing an expression of mingled disgust and awe.

"Daddy, what are you doing?"

"I'm changing the cat litter."

"Why don't you put it over there?"  he asked pointing at the carpet in the middle of the hallway.

"I think it would be better if I put it in the garbage, not mention that your mother would not be happy if I put it over there."

"That's where he pees!" he exclaimed, in a manner clearly meant to convey my stupidity.  Obviously I had failed to grasp the true nature of the task at hand and was blissfully unaware of what I was scooping.

Noted.

"It's yucky."

Dually noted.

"He's going to poop again."

Don't I know it!  Unfortunately, that's not the kind of job security that makes me sleep soundly at night.

"It's yucky," he repeated and then left the room.

Again, dually noted.  Thanks for your help.

- 6 November 2011

Unholy Cow!

Daylight savings time has always had a profound effect on our household.  This time was no different. 

Lunchtime and the boys were fading fast.  While trying to make it through in one piece I found myself reminding them to finish eating so that we could move on to naps, etc. 

"Logan, please turn around and finish eating your lunch.  It's nap time."

I fully expected backlash to one degree or another.  What I did not expect was Linda Blair.  Slowly, Logan's head revolved toward me.  His brow was furrowed and he had two macaroni noodles sticking out of his mouth that made a creepy hissing sound when he spoke.  Through clenched teeth he said slowly,

"Dad.  You told me three times!"

Yikes!  Quick, bring me some Holy Water.  I laughed nervously and said,

"Okay.  Then why are we still having this conversation?"

I received no response, just a continued stare and slow mechanical chewing like a demon cow and his cud.  Meanwhile, I was glad we had a tablecloth down because I was not interested in cleaning up the pea soup that I was certain would be forthcoming.  It also crossed my mind that I may not live long enough to mention finishing lunch a fourth time should I dare to speak again.  I could see Ashley peering around the corner from the kitchen clearly trying to decide whether or not to laugh or run screaming.  Whatever you decide...don't leave me here by myself.

- 6 November 2011

Excuses, Excuses

"He almost killed me half to death!"

Well, as long as you're only half dead, would you mind cleaning up your room?

- 23 February 2009

Stupid, Stupid Man

The boys love to hear stories from my blog almost as much as I love to tell them.  Their favorite game is to see if they can guess which one of them I am quoting.  There are times, however, when I forget myself completely, as though I don't really know how to speak Boy after all. 

Sometimes in life we are halfway through a task before we realize that it will end in complete disaster.  If stopping is not an option, most of us will work our way through, pick up the pieces at the end and move on with our lives.  Other times, however, we simply don't know that disaster is upon us until it's too late.  It is like riding your bicycle...turning around to talk to someone riding behind you, and slamming into a parked car.  You're just not going to see it until you're splayed across the hood.

Take this morning, for instance.  In between making peanut butter sandwiches and hollering at boys in various stages of undress, I began to read Dear Library.  Had I been aware of the dangerous obstacle that lay before me, I would have deployed a distraction and made my escape.  Unfortunately, I was unable to see the obstacle because it was camouflaged by a cereal-covered boy, a half eaten banana and a pair of underpants (Dear God, why are they wet?). 

I am referring, of course, to the land mine contained in the poem I had just started to read.  Apparently, both Justin and Ethan had forgotten that this particular issue had yet to be resolved and I was about to fan the coals of this dying argument.  As God is my witness...I actually gasped but was physically unable to stop my mouth from moving. 

"...no fights over Legos or whether or not chili is soup..." I read aloud.

As if I had just spoken a fact that was etched in stone, Ethan looked up at me, nodded and said,

"Because chili is soup, you know."  It was on.

"No it's not, Ethan!" Justin shouted as he rounded on his brother.

Wait!  No...no, no, no, no, no...oh, rats!

- 3 November 2011

Dear Library

Oh, Library. 

     How I love your quiet cocoon.  

No shouting.  

     No potty jokes. 

          No fights over Legos or whether or not chili is soup.  

Tell me a story. 

     Make me a believer of peace
          and harmony
               and adequate sleep.

Speak not of schmeckles. 
     Say nothing of wedgies.
          And I, in turn, will be your silent companion.

Please do not close.

     I would like to live here. 

What's that you say?

     I love you too.

- 2 November 2011

Let This Be a Lesson

My boys, certainly all boys, find it exciting to drive past emergency vehicles when their lights are flashing.  Their faith in my clairvoyance is unfailing.  Surely, I already know exactly what has happened, what is happening and what is about to happen, even at a thousand paces.  Occasionally, however, my psychic skills are preempted, in this case by a two-year-old.

As we drove slowly past, donning our rubber necks, we were witness to the handcuffing of a man bent over the hood of a squad car.

"Uh oh," Justin said.  "Someone broke something."

Indeed.  Unfortunately, at this very moment, the toddler in the back seat is wondering what got broken and why he is full of snips and snails and puppy dog tails.  How does one begin to explain the difference between the law and the living room lamp?

One doesn't.

One simply agrees.  "Whatever was broken must have been very important," you say, tossing in the most recent example of destruction and melee at the hands of your son for emphasis.  Then you mentally bookmark this page in the book of life for future reference and employment.  Trust me, you will refer to it often.

Is that mean and underhanded?  No.  That's just how to speak Boy.

- 14 August 2003

I'm Sensing a Theme

Logan hands Ashley his bag, huffing and puffing. 

"Mommy you can go trick-or-treating for me.  This bag is heavy of candy."

- 31 October 2011

"This was the best Halloween ever!  We got the most candy ever! 

Here, hold my bag."

- 31 October 2011

"This candy is weighing me down so much my feet hurt right now."

- 31 October 2011