Month: October 2009

Tonight was the boy’s night to be “squiggle butt.” He couldn’t sit still in his seat throughout dinner. He must have spun around 50 times if he did it once. If he wasn’t spinning in the chair, then he was on all fours with his rear in the air and his face looking at the floor. I can only assume that he was attempting to regurgitate for the dogs in some way, since they continually hovered around him whenever he struck this pose. I didn’t bother to look because, frankly, I didn’t want to know.

We asked him to stop his dancing repeatedly. At one point, the Wife told him “We’ll have to call you squiggle butt brownie.” That’s an oblique reference to Fudgy, in case you’re wondering. Of course the lass decided to chime in, agreeing with her Mom. She was just glad someone else was being referred to as squiggle butt. The boy retorted “Well you’re squiggle butt fudgy.”

To which the lass replied, fingering wagging, deadly-serious facial expression, her eyes sweeping between the boy and myself (who had not uttered a word throughout), with a calm assertiveness much beyond her 3 years “Now- Dad and “boy”, I told you two not to call me squiggle butt anymore.”

The Wife almost fell on the floor laughing.

Nicknames are one of those things that can be a blessing and a curse. The rules are really pretty simple- you’re given a nickname. You have no say in the matter. You cannot give yourself a nickname.

I’ve had my fair share of nicknames over the years. Some have been better than others. I think I’ve borne them all with good humor.

Which brings me to, the lass.

The lass had her “Big Show” yesterday. It’s a little recital that her dance teacher has her kids do for their last class. She’s done 3 of these before so she’s a seasoned veteran of Big Shows. She was very excited for this one and decided that she needed a little something extra.

So she decided to apply her own lipstick. The Wife was interrupted upstairs by the cheery exclamation “Mom, I put lipstick on for my Big Show!” She turned around to see a 3 foot tall clown. Miraculously, the lipstick was only around her lips and not all over her face, arms, hands and clothes.

I had the good fortune to visit with a bunch of the members of the 1963 Dartmouth Ivy League Championship team last night. The football program has been having reunions for all the chamionship teams over the years, attempting to reinvigorate support for a program that has temporarily lost its way. A little mojo must have been passed on since the Big Green won in convincing fashion, snapping a long winless streak.

A few weeks ago we went to the zoo for the last time for this year. On our way out, through the gift shop, we purchased these “pop jumpers.” They’re these neat little toys that you “arm” by turning inside out and then set them on a surface. After several seconds, it returns to it’s original shape with gusto and jumps up off the surface- several feet in some cases. It’s basically half of a hollow rubber ball. Simple minds, simple pleasures.

I mention this by way of introduction because just prior to lunch the kids were playing with these jumpers while I was fixing them sandwiches. The next thing I knew, the lass was crying. I quickly surmised that the boy was not involved. She hadn’t fallen or run into anything either.

What had happened?

For all you parents out there, a question. On “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse”, have you noticed that Mickeys’ and Minnies’ ears always stay in the same position, regardless of their head position? It’s most noticable when looking at a profile of their heads.

With current computer animation capabilities, you’d think this could be dealt with properly.

The lass wanted to make her own lunch today. Since we’ve got some wraps floating around I offered that instead of bread and she accepted.

So what does a 3 year old put on a wrap?

Pink meat(ham), cheese, mustard, mayo…

The Wife hoodwinked the kids into doing chores with her yesterday. They did well, cleaning there rooms including the dusting and vacuuming. It’s a lot more than I ever did…

Apparently, at one point the lass asked for the “fuddernutter.” The Wife was puzzled by the request and replied “Huh?”

“You know, it’s the thing that has the things on it and, um uh it’s lonnnnng…” was all the help the lass could offer.

After a couple more seconds thought, the Wife tentatively asked “You mean the featherduster?”

“YEAH!! That’s what I mean. The feddernuster.”

When I first heard about it, I figured she was asking for fluffernutter.

Just received the following message from my brother:

“She said yes! Officially off the market in Italy!”

Which makes me wonder- is he or his, now, fiance off the market in Italy? What happens when they return stateside?

Either way, congrats to them both. I’m thinking open bar…

The weather up here got cold but we never would’ve known it here in the house. I had been maintaining a fire in the fireplace, until today. The last two days the average indoor temp had to be around 78 degrees. That was oppressive enough that the wife was complaining about the self-induced heatwave. Heck, it didn’t get that warm in the house during the summer. I thought I had figured a way to regulate the indoor temp; obviously I was mistaken. It was actually pleasant to go outside and get a blast of cool air for a few minutes. It’s a pain, but I’ll go back to starting a fire each night until the current cool-snap ends.

Because a boy probably isn’t to interested in hand lotion.

A girl, on the other hand, will take the hand lotion and decide to condition the cat’s fur, in addition to her own hands, with it…

The boy had an assembly the other morning. It was a science related presentation with two dancers who described various “motion” related concepts. The name of the act is “Locomotion” and apparently they’re a pretty well known act- they’ve been on some of the morning shows. The performance was interesting as they introduced simple things like wheels, levers and gyroscopes (which isn’t necessarily simple, but it makes for a neat thing to show to elementary kids), all done to the time of a catchy tune. The boy enjoyed it.

At this point, you might be curious as to why I have such intimate knowledge of the performance. Simple. Because I was there with the boy to watch it.

Why?