Scout: Dad, have you ever been in a circus and you’re up in the air and you fall on the trapeze and you swing and smash into the side and fall off the trapeze and hurt yourself?
Me: No.
(beat)
Scout: Why not?
Tag Archives: scout
Trophy Kid
S: Dad, I need to change my pajamas, I got milk on them.
Me: Okay. Go ahead.
S: But I can’t walk.
Me: Why not?
S: Because I’m pretending I’m a trophy.
Four Against One
I’m alone in the house with two five year olds and two two year olds. So far, I’m winning.
The girls are drawing with crayons quietly, the boys are downstairs wrestling loudly.
Occasionally, I have to stick my head downstairs and tell the boys to not wrestle on the stairs, or stop throwing knives, or to keep the open flame to a minimum.
L_ drew a little bit on Scout’s paper.
Scout: Daddy, L_ drew on my paper!
Me: She’s helping you!
Scout: Oh. (beat) Thank you, L_.
That never happens with boys.
Aprendiendo Español
Ayer en mi clase de español, dijimos unas historias que usó el tenso pretérito. Entonces, creo que puedo escribir en mi diario en español porque más de mi escritura son sobre el pasado. Ya no puedo escribir sobre el futuro.
Por ejemplo, por la noche pasada mis hijos estuvieron muy enloquecido. Creo que estuvieron entusiasmado por las vacaciones con sus abuelos en Kentucky. Los dos cantaron y saltaron en la cama cuando necesitaron estar durmiendo.
Vamos a ir a Kentucky esta noche… con el perro. Nosotros nunca viajamos con un perro, y estoy un poco preocupado. Lo está bastante difícil viajar con dos niños. Y si se perdemos durante el viaje, ¿qué?
Creo que voy a comer ahora.
An Open Letter
An Open Letter to the People Who Are Missing This Puppy That Is In Our House,
Please, for the love of Dog, come get your puppy.
He is very cute and possibly housebroken, but he is trying to eat my daughter.
Also, he sits on her toddler couch, which is completely unacceptable to her.
Kind Regards,
ElectricRocket
Strange and Unusual Children
Scout just walked through the room, backwards, yelling “Whoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooa!”
The she stopped, cracked herself up, and walked away.
In Which My Nose is Roto-Rootered, and I Enjoy A New Phone
My mobile phone bit the dust a week ago, as a result of being thoroughly Scoutified.
So, after selling my soul to T-Mobile, I picked up a Motorola RAZR and a bluetooth ear thingy. As silly as those bluetooth ear thingys look, I look forward to my next hour-long conference call with the knowledge that I will be able to flap my arms like a duck while listening in.
Also, I’m very excited that I can tap the button on the ear thingy, say “Stacey… STACEY… stacey… STAcey… dammit… STACEY!… staCEY…” for five minutes, and the phone will possibly eventually call her automatically via the miracle of voice recognition. Modern technology is wonderful.
In other exciting modern news, I’m having my nose Roto-Rootered at some un-Dogly hour of the morning on Friday. So, as you start your day that day, take joy in the fact that no one is sticking a sharp slicing implement in your nostril.
The hope is that I’ll come through the other end with a straight septum and the ability to breathe through my right nostril, to say nothing of a distinct lack of eye-popping-pressure in the sinus area. In the meantime, I shall be enjoying a weekend with gauze pads taped to the underside of my nose with a bloodstream full of heavy-duty controlled substances. Anyone need a date to a fancy dinner party somewhere? I’m your man.
I have been extremely excited about this for the past year as I waited for my sick days counter to reset, in anticipation of getting this particular gremlin off my back. But as it draws closer, and I’ve been given my long list of prescription stuff to be filled and detailed and graphically described list of pre and post-op Things To Do, it’s becoming clear that this is not going to be a Pleasant Experience. In fact, it may, and I hate to sound pessimistic, suck more than a little bit.
I take consolation in that I can have my phone and Bluetooth earbud. Should I need something to ease my discomfort during my convalescence, I can simply tap my ear and say “Stacey… STACEY… STAAAAAAAACEY… stacey… STAAAAAAACEEEEEEYYYYYY… dammit.”
“She could dance before she could walk,” we’ll say.
What Every Father Longs For…
…is the day his daughter learns to give him a raspberry.
3rd post’s a charm.
I smell like sour milk.