"Dad," he said, rising up onto his knees in his chair, "I think that would go really well with my camel blazer."
Couldn't agree more.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
With Easter coming soon, I have taken advantage of stocking up on marshmallow peeps. I can't justify eating them alone. If I am tempted to eat an entire package of twelve yellow bunnies or eight blue chicks, I set aside one for Charlie. If I don't eat them all myself, I don't have a problem.
Yesterday evening was one such occassion. Jill made carbonara, but had used noodle "shells" instead of regular spaghetti noodles. Not surprisingly, this consternated Charlie, as well as the detestable smell of parmesan cheese, to the point of his initiating a hunger strike. However, I was able to use the peep dually, as incentive for Charlie to eat five small bites of his dinner and as expiation for my indulgences.
After dinner, Charlie walked circuitously around the dining room table, savoring his one peep. After several dozen laps, he stopped. "Dad," he said, "tonight when I am listening to my Charlie and the Chocolate Factory CD in bed, I am going to get up and pause it and say a prayer for you to stop eating peeps. They are not good for you."
Yesterday evening was one such occassion. Jill made carbonara, but had used noodle "shells" instead of regular spaghetti noodles. Not surprisingly, this consternated Charlie, as well as the detestable smell of parmesan cheese, to the point of his initiating a hunger strike. However, I was able to use the peep dually, as incentive for Charlie to eat five small bites of his dinner and as expiation for my indulgences.
After dinner, Charlie walked circuitously around the dining room table, savoring his one peep. After several dozen laps, he stopped. "Dad," he said, "tonight when I am listening to my Charlie and the Chocolate Factory CD in bed, I am going to get up and pause it and say a prayer for you to stop eating peeps. They are not good for you."
Thursday, March 22, 2012
What did he say?
Charlie, Henry and Jill took a shower together earlier this week. Charlie said, “Mom, pretty soon we’ll know if Henry is a boy or a girl.”
Last night at supper, I asked Charlie if he’d like to pray for mom to do well on her test. He replied, “You can do it, Dad. You love her more than I do.”
I’d been working from Starbucks all afternoon today. When I got home, Charlie told me I smelled like poop. (Notice how I prefaced that by saying I had been at Starbucks all afternoon. I am mostly certain he meant to say I smelled like coffee.)
Charlie told me this evening that screaming at children is a good way to distract them. He added, “It’s also a good way to make them cry and go inside.”
Charlie, Henry and I shared a big white chicken bowl at Tokyo Joe’s for dinner. Now that he is four he will eat the “chestnut waters” and snap peas. He did not eat them when he was two. Henry ate strained peas, pears and lots of rice. Afterward, we strolled to King Soopers. Charlie has learned from Jill where the manager’s special section is located. Henry and I caught up to him there. He tried to get me to buy a discounted fire log.
Marshmallow Peeps were on sale, ten for a dollar. I started loading them in the stroller hold. Charlie interrupted me. “Wait a minute, Dad.” He said, “You’re kidding me. You’ve gotta slow down. Candy is not healthy.”
Last night at supper, I asked Charlie if he’d like to pray for mom to do well on her test. He replied, “You can do it, Dad. You love her more than I do.”
I’d been working from Starbucks all afternoon today. When I got home, Charlie told me I smelled like poop. (Notice how I prefaced that by saying I had been at Starbucks all afternoon. I am mostly certain he meant to say I smelled like coffee.)
Charlie told me this evening that screaming at children is a good way to distract them. He added, “It’s also a good way to make them cry and go inside.”
Charlie, Henry and I shared a big white chicken bowl at Tokyo Joe’s for dinner. Now that he is four he will eat the “chestnut waters” and snap peas. He did not eat them when he was two. Henry ate strained peas, pears and lots of rice. Afterward, we strolled to King Soopers. Charlie has learned from Jill where the manager’s special section is located. Henry and I caught up to him there. He tried to get me to buy a discounted fire log.
Marshmallow Peeps were on sale, ten for a dollar. I started loading them in the stroller hold. Charlie interrupted me. “Wait a minute, Dad.” He said, “You’re kidding me. You’ve gotta slow down. Candy is not healthy.”
Sunday, March 18, 2012
St. Patrick's Day 2012
After feasting on green pancakes for breakfast, Henry, Charlie and I spent the afternoon of St. Patrick's Day at the zoo while Jill studied. It was Henry's first time on the carousel. Due to the crowds, I had to leave Charlie, unattended on a cassowary, in order to accompany Henry on a nearby ostrich.
Notwithstanding the indifference of the ride conductor, who rather flatly addressed us, the children delighted in the sensory experience, the up and down, the round and round, the air, the music, etc. which was no doubt enriched by the fear of falling.
Charlie was excited at first. I looke up to see him smiling and waiving back at us. Noting he was content, I focused most of my attention to Henry who was giggling when the ostrich he was on came to the peak of its rotation. He was obviously enjoying him. I am not sure how long Charlie was watching, but the next time I checked on him, he returned my smile with a contemtous scowl.
Later, we strolled along the west end of the zoo. Henry, was engaging in paraoxysms of wonder at the sighting of every living creature. I was worried he would stop breathing when he saw the wild Mongolian horses. Similar reactions occurred at the sighting of the Bongo, the Lesser Kudu and the Black Rhinocerus. It was while we were waiting for a submerged hippopatamus to resurface, that a group of a dozen gangly kids approached from the opposite direction singing, the chorus of Queen's song "We are the Champions", made even more obnoxious by the breaking of several pubescent voices on the high notes.
As they walked by, that same scowl I had seen on the carousel returned to Charlie's face. Charlie responded to the commotion by saying, "Dad, teenagers are disgusting!"
I believe the hippopotamus stayed under the water until they had passed.
Notwithstanding the indifference of the ride conductor, who rather flatly addressed us, the children delighted in the sensory experience, the up and down, the round and round, the air, the music, etc. which was no doubt enriched by the fear of falling.
Charlie was excited at first. I looke up to see him smiling and waiving back at us. Noting he was content, I focused most of my attention to Henry who was giggling when the ostrich he was on came to the peak of its rotation. He was obviously enjoying him. I am not sure how long Charlie was watching, but the next time I checked on him, he returned my smile with a contemtous scowl.
Later, we strolled along the west end of the zoo. Henry, was engaging in paraoxysms of wonder at the sighting of every living creature. I was worried he would stop breathing when he saw the wild Mongolian horses. Similar reactions occurred at the sighting of the Bongo, the Lesser Kudu and the Black Rhinocerus. It was while we were waiting for a submerged hippopatamus to resurface, that a group of a dozen gangly kids approached from the opposite direction singing, the chorus of Queen's song "We are the Champions", made even more obnoxious by the breaking of several pubescent voices on the high notes.
As they walked by, that same scowl I had seen on the carousel returned to Charlie's face. Charlie responded to the commotion by saying, "Dad, teenagers are disgusting!"
I believe the hippopotamus stayed under the water until they had passed.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
I drank coffee. Charlie, root beer.
Spring reminds Charlie of baseball and the song "Take me out to the ball-game!" Spring is also reminiscent of hot dogs. Hot dogs are delicious. I love hot dogs.
Henry has a purple bruise in the middle of his forehead. Henry points in general directions and makes unintelligible sounds. I can discern Mama, Dada, ChaCha, blue, bye, hi, ball, up, banana, graham cracker, dry diaper, more, milk, and spoon. His fingers are normally glistening with saliva. Moving pictures of panda bears cause Henry to be excited. Henry can operate a digital scale. He is a solid 23.2 lbs. Henry is so sweet after he takes Advil. I rocked him in an almost dark room before laying him down. I read Brown Bear, Brown Bear by Eric Carle and turned through a picture book of baby animals. Henry listened and watched.
Charlie overturned a wheelbarrow full of dirt onto the front porch. The tines of a rake he used to remove the dirt only created furrows. It did not care. We played memory on the front porch as the sun receded. We made the hinged lid of the white Royal Crest dairy box a game board and covered its entire surface with six rows of five cards. I drank coffee. Charlie, root beer. Charlie narrowly won; his eight matches to my seven.
Henry has a purple bruise in the middle of his forehead. Henry points in general directions and makes unintelligible sounds. I can discern Mama, Dada, ChaCha, blue, bye, hi, ball, up, banana, graham cracker, dry diaper, more, milk, and spoon. His fingers are normally glistening with saliva. Moving pictures of panda bears cause Henry to be excited. Henry can operate a digital scale. He is a solid 23.2 lbs. Henry is so sweet after he takes Advil. I rocked him in an almost dark room before laying him down. I read Brown Bear, Brown Bear by Eric Carle and turned through a picture book of baby animals. Henry listened and watched.
Charlie overturned a wheelbarrow full of dirt onto the front porch. The tines of a rake he used to remove the dirt only created furrows. It did not care. We played memory on the front porch as the sun receded. We made the hinged lid of the white Royal Crest dairy box a game board and covered its entire surface with six rows of five cards. I drank coffee. Charlie, root beer. Charlie narrowly won; his eight matches to my seven.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
I am home
I am home.
“DAD” is scrawled in pink and blue chalk in several places on driveway; two more on the front porch. A piece of white paper is affixed to the glass on the front storm door by means of four pieces of clear tape intersecting each corner. Yesterday, it said “WElCOM HOM DAD”. I will learn later that the drawing represents Charlie and Henry in the cockpit of a rocketship exiting the earth’s atmosphere on a journey to an “M” planet.
“Mars?” I ask.
Charlie walks barefoot on the low pavestone wall that serves as a border for the flowerbed. “No, Dad. It’s Mercury.”
Mercury is the closest planet to the sun. It has no satellites and little atmosphere. It is made of metal and rock like the earth. Sometimes you can see it at dusk with your naked eye.
The dozen tadpole shaped objects are parachutes attached to the jettisoned solid fuel boosters.
Beyond Charlie’s artful signage and through the glass, I see Charlie and Henry sitting at the table. I smell meatloaf with parsley. A Jell-o cup is stuck on Henry’s fist. Charlie is focused on a project. Henry is focused on the Jell-o. The air is still outside. The orange sky and the setting sun reflect in the door glass. Is that Mercury?
Jill comes into the frame with a white dish towel over her shoulder holding a stainless-steel spatula. I open the door.
I am home.
“Mars?” I ask.
Charlie walks barefoot on the low pavestone wall that serves as a border for the flowerbed. “No, Dad. It’s Mercury.”
Mercury is the closest planet to the sun. It has no satellites and little atmosphere. It is made of metal and rock like the earth. Sometimes you can see it at dusk with your naked eye.
The dozen tadpole shaped objects are parachutes attached to the jettisoned solid fuel boosters.
Beyond Charlie’s artful signage and through the glass, I see Charlie and Henry sitting at the table. I smell meatloaf with parsley. A Jell-o cup is stuck on Henry’s fist. Charlie is focused on a project. Henry is focused on the Jell-o. The air is still outside. The orange sky and the setting sun reflect in the door glass. Is that Mercury?
Jill comes into the frame with a white dish towel over her shoulder holding a stainless-steel spatula. I open the door.
I am home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
