Sunday, December 16, 2007

Can't really argue with his logic

(Riding down the road, seemingly lost in deep thought as he stared out the window) Do you know what I think the worst thing about eating dog poop would be?

(Me, feeling queasy) No . . . what?

(Him, with a definitive nod) The aftertaste.

Monday, December 10, 2007

(older sister, a bit panicked) We haven't gone to see Santa yet! We have to go to the mall and see Santa to tell him what we want for Christmas!

(The Boy, rolling his eyes) Everyone KNOWS that the Mall Santa is just a big fake . . .

(me, holding my breath, wondering if the jig is up, as he continues) . . . Everybody knows the fastest way to get your Christmas list to the REAL Santa is to email him! Don't you know anything?!

Littlest Guitar Hero

This isn't exactly funny, as much as it's eerie . . .

There's something unsettling about watching a 6 year old transfixed in front of a television, with chubby little hands strumming Eric Clapton's intro on Cream's "Sunshine Of Your Love".

Even stranger is hearing said 6 year old humming an old KISS tune while he draws monsters on notebook paper.

What kind of Pandora's box have we opened with this Guitar Hero? It's like watching the dead rise from the grave.

Creepy.

Been awhile

Yeah, I know. I haven't kept up with this site very well.

The boy didn't get less funny. I just got more lazy.

I'll try to do better.

Monday, July 23, 2007

New Puppy


The Boy has been oh-so-busy with the newest addition to our household.

When I first brought her home, he was speechless. All he could manage to stammer, over and over, while watching her play and bark, was "Are you SURE she's not a tiny robot?!"

It must have been the initial shock of all the cuteness.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Take Your Kids To Work Day

The boy, attempting to put together a little foam jigsaw cube: Man, this is SO difficult!

Me: So, did you have a good time at Dad's work yesterday?

Him, still concentrating: Yeah, I guess so. They gave me this cube puzzle.

Me: That's cool. What else happened? I heard you had a treasure hunt, and a movie and a tour.

Him, concentrating heavily, hesitating, quietly cursing the cube: Uh, yeah. We did.

Me: Was that fun?

Him, exasperated with the cube, finally putting down to address me directly: Not really. Some fat guy got angry cause I farted in his cube.

Me, dissolving into gales of laughter. Him too.

Magic Eye


A summer camp creation.
Watercolors mixed on canvas, textured with a suction cup.


Given to me for my birthday.


Monday, May 7, 2007

Sizing Up The Competition

During a weekend visit to Grandmother's, The Boy invited his dear "Mama D" (his pet name for her) to a rousing game of ping pong.

She graciously agreed to play, of course, and just as he was winding up for his first serve, with a big smile, he taunted, "Let's see what you GOT, Old Lady!"

He might be out of the will.

Friday, April 27, 2007

Love Letter

The Boy's love letter to his new Wii:


PDA

Once again, in the car . . .

Boy, in a rare display of unprovoked kindness and unselfishness to his sister, "Here, do you want a piece of Laffy Taffy? It's purple, your favorite color . . ."

Sister, overcome with joy, embracing him in an overly-enthusiastic hug, "THANK you! You DO love me!"

Boy, exasperated, pushing her away, disgusted look on his face, "Damn! Get a ROOM, why don'tcha?"

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Necessity is the mother of invention

(yesterday, while riding in the car to his baseball game. Editor's note: The Boy does some of his best thinking in the car) "You know how I have to step out into the street to check the mail? Well, that's really dangerous. Someone could run over me with a car."

I nodded silently in agreement and said, "That's true. That's why you have to watch for cars and wait until the street is clear to step out and check the mail."

He pondered that for a moment and responded, "Well, yeah . . . OR . . . they could make mailboxes with 2 doors: one on the front like they have now, and one on the back. If there was a door on the BACK, I could stay in the yard and check the mail and not get killed."

Yep.

I'm setting up a sit-down meeting with these guys. I'll be there, of course, but I think I'll let The Boy do all the negotiating and deal with the patent office.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Happy Birthday, Baby Boy!

I can't believe my little man is 6 today!

Just wanted to post a quick note before I left to pick up cookies for his "Birthday Lunch" surprise at school with all of his little kindergarten friends.

Feel free to leave him birthday wishes in the comments. But, gotta warn ya, if YOU call him "Baby Boy", he'll punch you. Hard.

Some things are reserved only for mom. I even get to kiss him.

Sometimes.

Monday, April 9, 2007

Body Mods

Boy, peering at a large marquis sign on a T-Shirt shop in Myrtle Beach: What does E-X-O-T-I-C spell?

Sister: That says "Exotic Piercing". You can get pierced in there.

Boy, with a smirk: I'd like to get YOU an exotic piercing. Your upper lip to your lower lip, so I don't have to hear your all-the-time yap yap yap.

Thursday, March 8, 2007

End of the Innocence

Tonight, I took The Boy to baseball practice. While I was unloading all of the team uniforms (I'm the team mom, God help me) and his equipment bag from the back of my car, The Boy stood patiently and soon took notice of a very tan, blonde, very pretty lady jogger trotting toward us, wearing a sports bra, little running shorts, and earbuds attached to her iPod.

The Boy silently watched her approach and then run by us. When she had passed us and turned a corner, he bent slightly at the waist and began yelling at the crotch of his pants, scolding "Bad penis! BAD PENIS!"

They should really start selling alcohol at the ballpark concession.

Break in the action

This morning, as The Boy was preparing to go outside to catch the bus, he stopped in his tracks at the door, ran back to me as fast as he could, and hugged me for a long, long time.

What?

He's not a smartass ALL the time, you know.

Monday, March 5, 2007

Meet the manager

(overheard in the car yesterday)

The Boy: I am going to be a house builder when I grow up.

Sister: Will you build me a house?

The Boy (with a devious smile on his face): Everyone in the family gets a free house except YOU!

Sister: What? Everyone except me? What kind of company is that? Who's your manager?

The Boy: My BUTT's my manager. Wanna meet him?

Saturday, March 3, 2007

Bar score

(running back to our table at Winston's Pub tonight after touring the bar and checking out all the games and pool tables, breathless and excited, adorable with eyes sparkling, holding a Mickey Mouse pedometer)

Look what some DRUNK guy gave me!

Spiderman HQ

So . . . birthday talk continues.

The Boy is pretty much sold on having a Spiderman party this year.

My first reaction was "How much more Spiderman stuff does one kid need?" He has Spiderman sheets, pillowcases, blanket, and bedcover. He also has Spiderman tshirts, posters, cars, and little action figures.

He got the Spiderman tent for Christmas from his aunt.



And Spiderman walkie talkies.


Note: He's also wearing Spiderman pajamas.


These were an instant hit, as the tent became The Boy's "Fortress of Solitude" and he immediately distributed one half of his walkie talkie set to a good friend of ours that was visiting us on Christmas night.

I could barely get a word in edgewise with my friend, Judd, without hearing a static-ey hiss followed by a very deep, growly voice commanding my friend to "Report to the Spiderman tent! Over!" BEEP!

Judd was goodnatured, telling "Spiderman" that "I can't come to the tent right this minute, but I am looking out for bad guys in the kitchen!" BEEP!

"Spiderman" upped the ante, and in his best authoritarian voice, beseeched Judd to "Report to the Spiderman tent NOW, or I will cut your head off! Over!" BEEP!

I took the walkie talkie at that point and advised "Spiderman" that Santa would take back the walkie talkies and the tent and everything else he got for Christmas if he heard any more "mean talk". Judd was laughing loud and long, and I handed the walkie talkie back, crossing my fingers that I wouldn't hear any more demands or threats.

Sure enough, within a minute, I heard the static-ey hiss signaling an incoming transmission. Preparing to confiscate the walkie talkies, I was on the edge of my chair, just waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

But no words came.

I wasn't sure at first, but I soon determined that I was hearing faraway giggling and the closer and unmistakeable sound of a very forceful stream of urine hitting the pool of water in the toilet. Pssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss BEEP!

Granted, he didn't say anything.

This kid should be a lawyer.

Placing his order

Big Sister: What do you want for breakfast?

The Boy, busy watching Banana Splits reruns: I want you to be quiet. And I also want some Fruit Loops.

Friday, March 2, 2007

Monkeys and Spiders

Last night, The Boy wanted to discuss his upcoming birthday. He will turn 6 in a matter of a few weeks.

We discussed the pros and cons of various party themes. Important stuff when you are almost 6.

Last year, Curious George was the HOT birthday party theme. The movie was pretty cute, cuter than the books ever were, to be honest. As soon as my kid walked out of the movie theater on Valentine's Day last year, he pronounced to everyone within earshot that he wanted to have a Curious George birthday party. Every week between Valentine's day and his actual birthday in April, he asked if he could have a Curious George party, and every week, I assured him that he could.

Come to find out, EVERY mother with a little boy turning 3, 4, 5, or possibly 6 was armwrestling all of the OTHER pre-k moms in the party stores to get to the dwindling Curious George swag.

Of course, being lazy and always looking for the easy way out, I consulted with my personal advisor, EToys . EToys is my best friend, my toy source, my secret Santa Claus AND Easter Bunny and my personal secretary when it comes to children's gifts, parties, holidays, etc. I only had to click-click-click my way to a party for 25, and 3 days and $150 later, 2 large, nondescript brown boxes showed up at my door, chock full of Curious George plates, cups, tablecloths, blow horns, hats, goodie bags, stickers, streamers, luncheon napkins, and banners. You get the idea.

So, Curious Boy, of course, spied the boxes first thing, and began to question me:

"Wow! What's in the big boxes, Mom?" he asked, with a look of wonderment.

"THOSE", I crowed proudly, "contain everything for your birthday party!" I was basking in the glow of my success, proudly confident of my solid position as Mother of the Year.

"YEAAAAAAAA!" he screamed, running through the house, "My Spiderman party is finally here! I'm gonna have a Spiderman party and invite all my friends!"

Shit.

Thursday, March 1, 2007

A Study in Watercolors, Chalk and Crayon 2007

Wishful thinking

Weekday mornings are hectic at our house. The kids get up at 5:45 am, and by 6:45, they are sitting on the schoolbus, so the hour in between is a ballet of whining, dressing and breakfast.

The Boy's older sister isn't a morning person, by ANY stretch, so Hub and I both find ourselves goading, begging and prodding her through her morning routines. This morning was no exception, as Hub tossed her shoes to her as she sat on the couch, zoned out watching television.

"Hey! You almost hit me in the head with those!" she snapped at Hub, who hadn't really even come close.

Breaking stride in devouring his grits and eggs, the boy had a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes as he gasped, "I WISH!"

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Dances With Fire

So, yeah . . . The Boy got his wish this past Christmas. He got a fire pit in the backyard. Here is his homage to the Fire Gods, accompanied by his sister's Hello Kitty cellphone ringer.

Please to enjoy.

TiVO Spelling Bee

(cranky, hot with fever on the sofa yesterday, clicking through the TiVO list) Who in the hell erased Dr. Who?

(me) "It starts with a D-R"

(him, still cranky, muttered under his breath, but I could STILL hear him) "I KNOW that Mom. DUH! It doesn't start with ANYTHING when some dumbass erases it!" (a little louder now) "How do you spell 'Survivorman'?"

I let it slide because he was feverish.

Like that makes any difference.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

The Cycle of Life


When The Boy was just a wee tot, he delighted in riding his tricycle through the house at breakneck speed.

When he was a little over a year old, we all came home one day to discover, to our horror, that both of our parrots were stone cold dead on the floor. They had succumbed to fumes from our oven that we had set to self-clean days earlier, and although we had placed the birds outside for the 2 days following the cleaning, we underestimated the presence of fumes on Day 3, and our poor birds were the victims.

Wordlessly, Hub and I looked at the dead birds on the floor, and then at each other, overcome with the gravity of the situation. Meanwhile, The Boy had jumped on his trusty tricycle and pedaled like a bat out of hell to where we were both standing, stunned.

Looking quickly at the lifeless creatures, he dismissed them just as quickly and glanced at us, popped his ever-present pacifier out of his mouth and blurted out, "Birds dead. Cookie me?"

Conisseur

The Boy was an early adopter of pizza. Although he preferred plain cheese, he wasn't completely opposed to trying beef, or even pepperoni, with great success.

Confusion set in one evening when he was 3. He only seemed to be befuddled for a few minutes after taking a big bite of a New York-style piece of pizza with monstrously large, gray slices of mushrooms adorning the top that his cousin had brought in.

Not wanting to appear initially ungrateful, he took a big bite out of a slice and chewed thoughtfully for a few moments.

Finally, he made his determination as he wrinkled his nose and dropped the offending slice on the floor for our ever-present dog to scarf up, declaring that "This elephant pizza doesn't taste very good!"

Jackass Schematics


Do you think this is how Steve-O got started?

(click on the pic to see the full screen-wide greatness)


The notations don't inspire alot of confidence, especially since the college-aged student teacher transcribed the most important part of this whole diabolical plan as a "latter" to get to the roof of our house.


Pray for me.


BBQ and patent law


(The Boy was looking somewhat confused while waiting for his chicken fingers to arrive at Sonny's BBQ a few months back. He was tracing the picture of the rotund Sonny's BBQ man on the kid's menu and adressed a question to his 20 year old cousin)
"Why does the little Sonny's man have an 'R' with a circle around it, right here near his cowboy boot?"

(cousin, trying to formulate a simplistic answer for a child) "Um, that 'R' means that no one can copy this picture."

(The Boy, still tracing the Sonny's man) "Then, shouldn't it be a 'C' with a circle for copyright?"

Whole table sitting in stunned silence as he continues to color.

Monday, February 26, 2007

Mystery Cloud Hoop-De-Doodle

"Mom, do they have gum and toys on the Mystery Cloud Hoop-De-Doodle?"

The Boy picked up the habit of saying "hoop-de-doodle" recently, and it stands in for most everything he can't recall immediately. Sort of like "doo-hickey", or "thingamajig". Anyway, I can usually figure out what "hoop-de-doodle" means, but in this case, I was stumped.

Visibly aggravated, he said it again. "You know! The Mystery Cloud Hoop-De-Doodle, where you go when you die!"

I finally got it. "You mean heaven!"

Dismissing me with a tone that clearly indicated that his mind had already moved on to greener pastures, he mumbled, "Yeah. Heaven."

I'm pretty sure I like "Mystery Cloud Hoop-De-Doodle" better.

Self-portrait of The Boy at 4

Yeah, I know. It DOES look like that.

Ancient History

(while riding in the car. Editor's note: The Boy does some of his best thinking in the car) "Mom, remember that time we had a picnic at that park with all the ducks at the lake, and we played kickball with that huge Dora the Explorer ball?"

(me, surprised) "Yeah, I remember. How do YOU remember that? You were only 3!"

(him, already bored) "Actually, I was 2 the year Santa brought me that Dora ball."

A Moment of Tenderness

(to his grandmother, who is looking at him lovingly as he builds a massive LEGO structure in her living room) Mama D, when I grow up, I am going to build you a great big house . . .

(pause for dramatic effect while she swells with love and pride) . . . you know, if you aren't dead!

Raking the Muck

I figure I have about 5 years' time to make up. This kid has been funny since birth, pretty much, so I am just gonna jot stuff here when it dawns on me, in no particular order.

Thank you for your patronage. Please drive through.

Where to Begin

Yesterday, Husband was cleaning out a VERY stinky hamster cage. Rancid, really. This hamster has lived way longer than I ever thought it would, having been disgarded by The Boy well over a year ago to live in my office after biting him and drawing MASSIVE amounts of blood.

Holding his nose, he announced, "I should have stomped that stinky rat flat when I had the chance!"

I'm not even sure where to start to correct him.

Sick Day Questions

I gotta start locking the TiVO. The Boy was home today with a slight fever, enjoying some sofa goodness, watching the tube and called out to me "Hey Mom, what is a "shoebox full of blow"?

Seems Krusty needed one to get through his bit on the Simpsons.

(sigh) Guess I'm up for Mother of the Year, again.

Inaugural Post

I was boring someone again today with something funny my kid said, and it dawned on me: Why not blog this crap? It will save me from boring my friends, and when Alzheimer's sets in and I can't remember a damn thing, it will be a source of amusement for one and all!

So, without further ado, may I present . . . My Kid's Krazy Krap! (patent pending)