Category: Family

The lass decided that she didn’t like dinner last night, so she refused to eat it.

The way she operates; however, is not nearly in so straight forward a manner. Instead, she sits there and dithers. Then she wants some milk. She eats some applesauce. She plays with the dogs and “rewards” them for doing tricks like “sit.” Then she says that she isn’t hungry. Five seconds later, she wants more applesauce. “But you weren’t hungry a second ago” we reply. “I wasn’t hungry for that.” she replies pointing at the food on her plate.

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?

Had our first fire of the new fall season last night. Our first frost of the new fall season as well.

Coincidence? I think not.

“The other boys said I was wearing a purple shirt and that it was a girl color and laughed at me. None of the girls said anything, just the boys. I told them to stop and they didn’t.”

For the record, the shirt in question is a nice rugby shirt which is maroon and white striped. It’s perfectly suited for the boy, or any boy. I would wear a shirt of its like without a seconds hesitation.

Today was breezy with rain. Leaves and pine needles that is.

The day was actually quite spectacular. It started with some actual rain. By mid-morning it was clearing. By noon, it was bright, sunny and breezy.

Before today, most of the trees still had leaves. After today, the trees were noticeably lighter.

I was folding laundry after dinner when the boy toddled in and declared that he was going to help me. He proceeded to start pulling clothes out and attempting to fold them. Unfortunately, he still doesn’t have the required coordination for the task, so he settled for pulling clothes out and handing them to me. Which was fine, now I didn’t have to bend down to pull things out. Even so, his behavior was odd.

Then I recalled that after dinner, he had taken his plate and cup and placed them in the dishwasher. Making it more remarkable is the fact that I didn’t ask him to do it. So as I finished folding the shirt I was working on, I realized what was going on.

Louie went home today. Back to school that is.

The boy and I brought him back for his afternoon class. The boy had another surprise for me. Once he saw his friends he didn’t want anything to do with me, barely acknowledging my goodbye.

I knew that this behavior was coming, I just didn’t think it would be here so fast! I laughed and mentioned it to his teacher on the way out. I also said maybe I should do something to embarrass him. She laughed as well and told me there would be plenty of opportunities for me to do just that.

Fair enough. I can wait.

I picked up the boy and Louie yesterday after school.  Ever since, every third word out of the kids’ mouths is “Louie.”  The lass walks around chanting “Louie the rabbit, Louie the rabbit.”  The boy wants to feed Louie, and pet Louie, and hold Louie, and brush Louie, and… I’m sure you’ve got the idea.

The dogs are FASCINATED with Louie.  For his part, Louie seems to have taken them in stride.  The boy’s teacher has a Shepherd as well so Louie is used to the attention.  The birds weren’t too impressed with Louie- though he was quite curious about them.

I’ll post picks when I can.

UPDATE:  Everyone, Louie.

Louie,  Everyone.

Did I mention that he poops constantly?

On the BUS that is!

The Wife got applause from all the other kids on the bus today for her heroic efforts in awaking the boy, who was out once again. He was extremely groggy and dazed when she finally did manage it, sort of a “the lights are on but no one’s home” moment.

His fellow travelers will doubtless be disappointed tomorrow since he won’t be on the bus for the ride home. I’ll be going to pick him up along with Louie.

Who’s Louie? You’ll have to wait ’til tomorrow to find out.