The daycare informs us that one Mr. Fletcher is quite the little singer. He enjoys to sing-along with his own personal refrain ("ooooooooo" and "aaaahhhhh") as the rest of the tots actually use words. This comes as no surprise to me, really. I've noticed he is starting to modulate the pitch of his voice when I sing to him. Yes, I sing. Whether I sing well is another matter entirely.
Anyway, I am just so excited that the daycare thing is going so well for Fletch.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Monday, July 9, 2007
Kung Fu Grip
Two things happened this weekend which together bode ominously for the future. First, there was the Nuclear Poop incident. I shall not go into detail other than to say that The Boy had been constipated and chose to make up for lost time. At once. There was not a diaper on God's green earth large enough. In of itself, however, such an incident is no cause for alarm. You clean it, and you move on. No big whup.
The second event is that which is more concerning. How to say this delicately? The Boy found his package. Yes, THAT package. Thankfully, he was already clean at the moment he decided to put his Kung-Fu Grip on a handful of johnson. What troubles me is that I can easily imagine a scenario in which The Boy reaches south and comes up with a bio-fouled hand. Nothing good comes from a bio-fouled hand.
I broached this very topic with a friend of mine this morning at the coffee shop, who was all too familiar with this, um, failure mode. By anticipating and acknowledging this potential biohazard outcome, I am ahead of the game. I can plan for, and react quickly to, such an event.
This begs the question: if The Boy was able to circumvent countermeasures and produce a biofouled hand anywhere near the face, is this not something that would only happen once? I mean, my family has a proud history of being quick learners. Take his Dad, for example. Remember the Bugs Bunny cartoons in which Bugs hids an anvil behind a red cape for the bull to run into? Well, in this scenario, my older brother was Bugs, and I the bull. It wasn't the first run into the edge of the coffee table that sent me to the ER. Nor the second. Fully the third run is what opened up my eye at the tender age of 4. As I said, fast learning genes.
The second event is that which is more concerning. How to say this delicately? The Boy found his package. Yes, THAT package. Thankfully, he was already clean at the moment he decided to put his Kung-Fu Grip on a handful of johnson. What troubles me is that I can easily imagine a scenario in which The Boy reaches south and comes up with a bio-fouled hand. Nothing good comes from a bio-fouled hand.
I broached this very topic with a friend of mine this morning at the coffee shop, who was all too familiar with this, um, failure mode. By anticipating and acknowledging this potential biohazard outcome, I am ahead of the game. I can plan for, and react quickly to, such an event.
This begs the question: if The Boy was able to circumvent countermeasures and produce a biofouled hand anywhere near the face, is this not something that would only happen once? I mean, my family has a proud history of being quick learners. Take his Dad, for example. Remember the Bugs Bunny cartoons in which Bugs hids an anvil behind a red cape for the bull to run into? Well, in this scenario, my older brother was Bugs, and I the bull. It wasn't the first run into the edge of the coffee table that sent me to the ER. Nor the second. Fully the third run is what opened up my eye at the tender age of 4. As I said, fast learning genes.
Friday, July 6, 2007
It's Not You, It's Me
Overheard at Fletcher's daycare, by a little girl, when a little boy dispensed a touch too much affection to said little girl:
"I need my space."
Indeed. They start 'em young, nowadays.
"I need my space."
Indeed. They start 'em young, nowadays.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Vanilla Who?
In reference to the picture of my friend Kevin, his girlfriend, and Vanilla Ice, my father-in-law asks, "Which one is Kev P, and which one is Vanilla?"
Indeed. All of Kev's friends have been asking the same question for years.
Indeed. All of Kev's friends have been asking the same question for years.
Vanilla Ice with my friend Kev
Kev P was dining at an Amish buffet restaurant in Pennsylvannia, when he happened upon one Mr. Vanilla Ice. If there was a problem, yo, Kev solved it. Check out the pic while Ricky revolves it...
Word to your mother.
Monday, July 2, 2007
3 month birthday
Hey, Fletch! Can you believe it, little man? You turned 3 months old this past weekend. I can hardly believe where the time has gone. Somehow, sleep deprivation and time travel must be related. If Einstein were alive, I would see about taking that up with him.
You continue to amaze me, how you have changed so much. You used to be a wriggly little fuss-monster, who, when not sleeping, was crying. Sleeping was not something you were into for more than 3 hours at a clip, which made your loving parents morph into zombies. Thankfully, somewhere around 6 weeks old, you figured out how to sleep from 9 at night until 7 in the morning. Just like that. Like someone flipped a switch. And then, your little personality began to emerge.
You, my man, are quite the big character constrained by a small body. You giggle and smile (from a younger age than is usual), and then this past weekend, as if you knew it was your birthday and could not more pleased about it, you let out a huge long belly laugh. Your laughter was contagious, so Mommy and Daddy had to laugh, which made you laugh more. And your dog Cooper walked around in circles, wondering what mysterious illness had befallen his family.
OK, you gotta go to day care. Mom says right NOW. :-)
Love,
Dad
You continue to amaze me, how you have changed so much. You used to be a wriggly little fuss-monster, who, when not sleeping, was crying. Sleeping was not something you were into for more than 3 hours at a clip, which made your loving parents morph into zombies. Thankfully, somewhere around 6 weeks old, you figured out how to sleep from 9 at night until 7 in the morning. Just like that. Like someone flipped a switch. And then, your little personality began to emerge.
You, my man, are quite the big character constrained by a small body. You giggle and smile (from a younger age than is usual), and then this past weekend, as if you knew it was your birthday and could not more pleased about it, you let out a huge long belly laugh. Your laughter was contagious, so Mommy and Daddy had to laugh, which made you laugh more. And your dog Cooper walked around in circles, wondering what mysterious illness had befallen his family.
OK, you gotta go to day care. Mom says right NOW. :-)
Love,
Dad
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
