Tuesday, January 31, 2006

WE HAVE A KING 1-31-2006

PJ said to me as he was going to bed. "Dad, did you know that we have a king?"

"A king?" I said.

"Yeah, King Kong. He's this great big strong monkey!"

"King Kong?" I repeated, a little confused.

"But he's not the strongest monkey."

"Who is the strongest monkey?"

"Junior."

"Junior?"

"You know, in that arcade game with Mario? Junior catches his dad from like three stories. He wears a big J on his chest."

He was talking about "Donkey Kong Junior" one of the arcade games we play on in the basement. In his world, movies and video games all sort of intersect with the real world.

"PJ?" I said.

"yes?"

"Good night, PJ."

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Anna Apologizes 1.28.2006


DSCN2578
Originally uploaded by peteshaw.
We had a sleepover last night for Kathleen's brownie troop. All was well, but for some late night and early morning shenanigans orchestrated by our wiley and sleep deprived daughter. She was sentenced to house arrest for the weekend. This afternoon, I heard the door open, some footsteps, and then a 'thwack' as a card hit the floor, then moor footsteps, and then the door shut.

This is what I found:



DSCN2579
Originally uploaded by peteshaw.




DSCN2581
Originally uploaded by peteshaw.

WHY ASK WHY - 1.28.2006

I just had this conversation with Sam. I was putting a diaper on him
and he grabbed at my glasses.

"Sam, don't grab at my glasses."

"Why?"

"Well, because I don't want you touching the lenses with your pudgy
little fingers."

"Why?"

"Because your hands are all dirty with little boy stuff"

"Why?"

"Its because you never wash your hands."

"Why?"

"Well, I don't know why you don't wash your hands Sam, but I really you would."

Big pause. "Oh."

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

GOODBYE FAITHFUL SUBARU 1-25-2006

The Salvation Army just picked up the old '95 Subaru, which was put out to pasture today.  She had 144,423 milse on her, a leaking head gasket, some weird ignition troubles, two torn cv boots, a dead battery, and this nasty smell of dog vomit that wouldn't go away no matter how much fabreze you sprayed on.  Still, she was a good old car, and will be missed. 

nothin' goin on 1-25-2006

Nothing much going on these days.  I need to get a bunch of photos from Christmas posted up here.  PJ has learned he can shake his booty, much to our delight.  Anna asked Kathleen about puberty in a whisper at the dinner table, and I heard the word 'bra' muttered under her breath.  I just pretended not to notice.  It seems that some of Anna's second grade friends have claimed to have started puberty already.   I felt like screaming and jumping out the window, and running down the road, like Homer Simpson does some times.

It is less than two weeks until we go to St. Marten!  Oddly, I am looking forward to it, but I have really been digging my little routine these past few weeks, of doing nothing much and hanging around the house.  But vacation will be cool, and for once I might bring a little energy with me into it.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Anna plans a party

It started with a permission slip.  It was written in pencil on a white plain sheet of paper in Anna's trademark slanty scrawl.  It looke dlike a permission slip.

" I am throwing a party for Ms. Eshbaugh"  Anna said proudly.  Inwardly, I was cringing.  What does she want to do now?

I think Kathleen's first reaction was something like.  "No!  Definitely not!  I will not allow this, I won't help you, and I won't talk to you about this.  Don't bring this up again.  Ever."  

So Anna did what was to be expected, when faced with such negative thinking.  She ignored her, pretended she had never spoke to mom, and tried asking dad.  Anna told me that she wanted to use my copier to make 30 copies of her permission slip, and hand them out at class so that everyone could come home to our house on Saturday and have big surprise party for her teacher.

"A permission slip?"  I said.  This was after work, so the gears were moving a little slowly.  Even so, somewhere in the back corner of my mind a buzzer was sounding, and probably saying something like, "Alert!  Alert!  Anna plus thirty permission slips equals trouble!  Alert!"  Still, I didn't want to sound unreasonable, I just wanted to torpedo this latest campaign by my ambitious daughter with the least effort neccessary.  

"Well" I said, "I think you'd need to get a permission from the principle before you were to start handing out permission slips.  Why don't you bring that permission slip in to school and show it to the principle, and let her decide.  Okay?"

Well, this managed to stonewall Anna for a short period of time.  The next day, she actually remembered to bring the slip with her into school, and when the principle was not available to meet with her, she brought the slip home with her.  I had assumed this would have been the end of it, but as usual, I was wrong.

Anna was told by someone at school that the principle was going to be gone for most of the morning, but that she would be around in the afternoon.  When she was at home that afternoon, (and I regret not being around to see this) Anna picked up the phone, and called the phone number for the school that was at the top of her school lunch menu.  She used her best telephone manners.

"Hello, this is Anna Shaw.  May I speak to the Mrs. Fye please?"  Mrs. Fye is the principle.  "Yes, un-huh, Anna Shaw."  A pause.  "Yes, I'll wait."

Kathleen at this point left the room.  She thought the principle was going to want to speak to her.

I got home from work later that day.  Expecting a negative result, I asked Anna how things were going with the party.  I wanted to comfort her in getting rejected by the prinicple.

"She said that it was okay to have a Holiday party!  Can we make copies of the permission slip now?"

Monday, January 09, 2006

SAMMY DOESN'T REMEMBER PATRA

We were reading night time stories the other evening, and Sammy was looking a picture of Patra that Anna has on her nightstand.

Kathleen asked him, "Sam, do you know who this is?"

"Isis?"  He said.

"No, Sam, this is Patra, do you remember Patra?"

He looked at the picture, but didn't say anything that indicated he remembered.

"No, he doesn't remember Patra, too little."  She said and ruffled the hair on his head.  It was kind of sad watching this, and realizing that this loyal pooch that was around for so long, just missed the boat, and that he won't ever remember.

But we'll remember, and we can tell him what she was like.  Its still sad though.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

THIRTEEN PERCENT - 01-06-2005

My brother and I have made a bet over the new years. We both plan on
losing thirteen percent of out body wieght over the next six months
in time for our vacation at schroon lake.

Start and finishing weigh ins shall be witnessed by spouses.

The loser, someone who does not reach goal weight by July 4th, while
the other does, will have to cook a chicken barbecue for everyone
while dressed up in a girly-girl dress.

I am a proponent of weekly weigh-ins - but we will see how that goes.

About the thirteen percent, for me its about 30 pounds, and I am five
foot ten, so those in the advanced math group now know how just how
fat I am. And contrary to my many claims, its not muscle either. Its
fat, its all fat.

According to mom's very accurate scale, over new year's I weighed in
at 229.8 pounds, not counting the extremely heavy towel I was wearing.
So 200 makes my goal weight, and my first weigh in will be on Sunday
night on my less accurate scale at home.

I don't have the official word on Mike's starting weight yet, but its
even more than mine. Yikes.