An Extravaganza of Pumpkins and Tape

Happy Fatherhood Friday!

I hope you had a Happy Halloween!

Mom-E and I very much enjoyed ourselves, more so than in years past.

Perhaps this is because all small men were eager to ambulate and carry
their own Trick-or-Treat baskets (at least until the very end.)

This enabled Mom-E and I to just sit back and enjoy the boys in all of
their giddy excitement.

The boys made for an exciting entourage of superheros, dressing as
Iron Man (Big Brother), the Flash (Little Brother), and Robin (sans mask-
Bab-E Brother).

Big Brother wore the Dark Helmet-esque talking light up Iron Man mask
that was a favorite present from Aunt-E last Christmas.

Little Brother looked like a mini-Sheldon dressed as Flash.

And Bab-E Brother is just plain stinkin' cute.  Truth be told, he really
didn't even want to wear a costume, but a last-minute diaper change and
seeing his Halloween bucket proved to be enough of a distraction to
put a costume on before he had a chance to protest too much and try to
take it off.

And while Halloween was a great time for all, I'm not so sure that Mom-E
and I feel the same post-Halloween.

You know - the CONSTANT begging and whining for Halloween candy,
that if left to their own devices, would constitute about 95% of the boys'
diet the first week of November.

So, Mom-E and I have insituted a "one piece after lunch and one after dinner"
policy, as well as a "token economy."

That's right, negative behaviors mean that Mom-E and Dad-E confiscate a
piece of Halloween candy, and being extra helpful can earn them back.
So far, it seems to be a helpful motivator - at least after the boys figured out
we meant business and they lost about 10 pieces in a span of a 20-minute
dinnertime meltdown.

That's neat.  Yeah, fun.  Neat.  Neat.  Good times.

And of course no Halloween would be complete without...
PUMPKIN CARVING!

If your kids are like mine, there's tremendous excitement about selecting a
giant pumpkin and talking about carving it up...

...until, that is, it actually comes time to do the carving.

At which point, the crowd murmurs something about the pumpkin smelling
bad, the pumpkin guts being gross, and "hey Dad-E, we're going to go
outside and swing while you freeze on the porch and carve the pumpkin
for us."

Thanks, loads.

However, in an attempt to satisfy the hunger of our Transformer-obsessed
beasts, I we opted to go for a Deceptacon pumpkin this year.  I was a little
leery about the associated level of difficulty, but this pumpkin carving hack
was pretty pleased with the result.

But the pumpkin obsession didn't end there.

No, the boys were adamant that we needed to get some kind of inflatable
Halloween decoration this year, and even offered to chip in some of their
pennies to assist.

Little Brother was delusional was certain that Mom-E had already ordered
a large inflatable BOO sign, when, in fact, they had just perused.

So, after much politeness, comments about how practical such a
decoration would be, how nice the house would look, Mom-E and I
caved and I took the boys to Wally World to pick something out.

Yep, we ended up with a 9 foot tall inflatable stack of pumpkins.

(It was either that or the $98 15 foot stack of ghosts, and my wallet felt
a little light.)

Fortunately, being 2 days before Halloween, the inflatable was 25% off,
so not too bad of a deal, and the boys were THRILLED.

I mean genuinely THRILLED.  Like Christmas level excitement thrilled.
Like actually willing to HELP set it up thrilled (and by help, I don't mean
run around the yard and play while Mom-E and Dad-E do all the work).

You might be asking yourself, "What's that white box atop the pumpkin 

inflatable?"

Well, that's Little Brother's new "piggy bank."

Yes, you heard me right.  

Little Brother, who is more obsessed with coins that that mummy from

the long-ago Scooby Doo episode...

(Coin! Coin! Coin!)

...decided to tape this white box to the top of the pumpkin inflatable

box, which happens to be just big enough to fit all of his pennies.

All I can say is, "That boy's got creative style.  And a black belt in

tape."

Lord help us when he discovers duct tape.

Have a good weekend,

Busy-Dad-E

After-Church Snack

Hello there!  I hope you had a nice weekend.

I think it's safe to say that following the service, many churches have coffee, donuts/cookies, and fellowship afterwards.  Ours is no different.

After running around in the grass outside the church with some good friends (okay, they didn't run around with Mom-E and Dad-E's friends, but rather their children) for a solid 20 minutes, the boys were ready to munch.

However, this week the boys opted for a very different kind of snack.

Within about a minute of being strapped into his carseat (I guess technically we should call it his vanseat), Bab-E Brother had tossed off his shoes and his socks, and was happily "munching" on his TOES!

Yes, toes.  Yuck.  And for me, it makes no difference that he'd had a bath about 30 minutes before we left for church.  Toes = Yuck.  Period.

And not just a little peck or sniff.  He was going to town.

I guess this shouldn't surprise me.  After all, this is the child who likes to SMELL my sweaty shirt when I get home from a run.

"Dad-E, can I smell you?" he says with bright eyes and eager anticipation.

"Okay, if you really want to," I reply, with trepidation.

And we're not talking about smell like when you inadvertently discover that someone else in the room has effluviated, I mean like "getting your nose right into the pan of hot brownies from the oven and sniff as deeply as you can", kind of sniff.

So, if he likes that, I guess it makes sense that his toes are (somehow) desirable, too.

And I also learned there's a reason why people still ask things like "If your friend did [insert danger], would you do it, too?"

Because following the response to Bab-E Brother's "snack", the next thing you know we have a van-load full of 3 boys happily trying to stick their toes in their mouth.  Nice.

Really, I promise that we do feed our children actual food.  More than once a day, even.

On the other hand, perhaps Mom-E and I have stumbled on a solution to chronic complaints of "I'm hungry", most often uttered 1) 2 minutes after we've eaten, or 2) when we're as physically far away from food or drink as we possibly could be.

"Hey, the last time you boys were hungry, you opted to stick your toes in your mouth.  Bon appetit!"

Have a good week,
Keep your toes inside your shoes at all times,
Busy-Dad-E

Compound Words

On the way home from Cub Scouts the other night, Big Brother spontaneously blurted out:

"Dad-E, iceskating is a compound word."

"Yes it is, buddy."

"Baseball is a compound word, too."

"You got it!"

"And father."

"Huh?"

"Father."

"I know.  Father is not a compound word."

"Sure it is.  F-A-T ... H-E-R."

*Sigh*  "Not quite, buddy."

"What about FATTER?" interjected Little Brother.

That's my boys.  Almost 8 years of fatherhood, and the word "father" is synonymous with fat her.

Lovely.  Just bloody lovely.

See you on FAT-HER-HOOD Friday,
Busy-Dad-E

Wheel of Costumes

Hello there!

I hope you had a nice weekend.

Of the myriad of decisions our school-age children make, arguably one's choice of Halloween costume is easily in the annual top 3.

With just over 2 weeks to go, I'll admit that Mom-E and I have been running a "stall" offense.

You see, about 2 weeks ago, our Transformer-obsessed boys, with Big Brother as their fearless leader, decided that they wanted our WHOLE FAMILY to be a "combiner Transformer" for Trick-or-Treat.

A "combiner" is when 5 or 6 individual Transformers combine to form a single, ginormous Transformer.  Those of you from my generation may know of combiners like Devastator, Superion, Bruticus, Defensor, Menasor, or Superion.

Did I mention that Big Brother wanted to hand-make each of the 5 combiner Transformers out of cardboard boxes?

And Little Brother is so on-board that he's been painting empty Capri-Sun boxes with WATERCOLORS to help prepare costume material.

Oh, and the best part is that when we become the combiner, Dad-E gets to carry two of the three boys (and Mom-E the third) around the neighborhood for Trick-or-Treat.  Which two doesn't matter, they're all heavy, especially when I start thinking about some of the hills.

And I'm sure that as a 2 year-old, Bab-E Brother will have no problem cooperating.  Especially because according to the older boys, "He wants to be a Transformer for Halloween, because we told him that's what he wants to be."

As recently as a few days ago, Big Brother was busy diagraming uninterpretable blueprints for how we were going to construct said MONSTER.

I meant to say TRANSFORMER instead of MONSTER, only I didn't want to.

Fortunately for us, children's minds about Halloween costumes change like the weather.

All of this is made more fun because - thanks to a donation by one of Gramm-E's coworkers - we have no less than 5 bazillion costumes at home.  Why would we want to wear one of those?

Oh, that's right, because that would be the EASY thing to do.

So, yesterday, Big Brother decided he was going to be Iron Man, complete with a Dark Helmet-style helmet from last Christmas.  Thanks, Aunt-E!

That sent Little Brother into a frenzy of costume changes more hectic than a hoard of supermodel divas at a fashion show.

It started with Wolverine, which was fine until he remembered that the Wolverine mask was not custom-made to fit HIS head.

It ended with a cross between a Red Power Ranger suit, and a white ninja mask belonging to Storm Shadow from GI Joe.

The best part is that Little Brother insists, no DEMANDS, to wear special gloves and boots with his costume.

And putting on said gloves and boots is a cross between scrubbing in for surgery and preparing for extended deep sea diving.  He puts on the costume, and then has me, one at a time, put on each glove, boot, and mask so that the costume stays tucked nicely inside.

Did I mention that the gloves are Lightning McQueen winter mittens?  And the boots are rubber galoshes with monkeys on them?

Priceless.

Oh, and the best part is that this whole costume frenzy took place while our lunch was sitting on the kitchen table getting cold.

I better go eat now - that food has been sitting there a long time.

Have a good week,
Chose your costume wisely (Mom-E and I will be wearing very authentic TIRED PARENT costumes, aka clothes),
Busy-Dad-E

Junk Food

So, to my knowledge, Mom-E has uttered about 3 indecent words in her entire life, and at least two of those were Freudian slips.

A favorite family story is that one time as a kid, Mom-E was really upset at Gramm-E.

Instead of calling her something straight out of Q-bert "@!#?@!", she mustered a, "You, you, you, you...YOU WRAPPING PAPER!"

That's right, if Mom-E calls you wrapping paper, assume that you threw paper, and YOU LOSE!

Fast forward to the other day.  Little Brother was angry with Mom-E, and spontaneously blurts out,

"YOU JUNK FOOD!"

So, if the gene for an obsession with tape is on the Y chromosome, then the gene for hilarious insults is X-linked.

Have a good weekend,

No junk food,

Busy-Dad-E

The Spider

Little Brother may be afraid of cats, but apparently he really likes spiders these days.

So much so, that he illustrated a spider picture book (complete with making me fold and cut the pages so that they would be squares).

And now, without further ado:

The Spider.  Illustrated by Little Brother.  (Unofficially) written (in invisible ink) by Busy-Dad-E

There once was a spider with 16 legs, 8 on each side of his body.

One day, he lost some legs.

And the legs that were left started to grow, and grow, and grow.

Until they broke off.

That made him hungry.  So he swallowed a jelly bean, WHOLE!

But that made his legs break off even shorter.  

Suddenly, he started to get a tummy ache.

And he turned GREEN.

The spider felt sick...all day.

And the next day.  And the next day.

Finally, he digested the jelly bean, and felt MUCH better.

And his legs started to GROW AGAIN! 

And he was so happy that he started to swing with his web.

But little did the he know that the jelly bean was RADIOACTIVE!

And he mutated into a person!

THE END.

Have a good week,

Use your imagination,

Busy-Dad-E

Mom-E Needs More Training

Happy Fatherhood Friday!

Mom-E had been trying for a couple of days to remember something funny she meant to tell me (you know, all parents have this form of amnesia where if we get distracted when we're about to say something, that thought gets lost, sometimes forever.)

She finally remembered last night, and I found it too cute not to share.

Faithful readers of the blog know that Little Brother is quite obsessed with ropes (not that any of us have a clue as to why).  Anything that can be remotely construed as a string (or has length but not width) counts as a rope.

And perhaps his favorite thing to do is to swing the rope rapidly in a circle in front of his face (kind of like a mace in Gladiator).

So the other day, Little Brother was using an old pocket watch chain as a rope.

He proudly showed Mom-E his efforts.  "Look Mom-E, I can swing this rope fast because I'VE BEEN TRAINING."

And immediately follows this up with:
"Mom-E, I bet I can swing this rope faster than you because you haven't been training."

Immediate thoughts were:
1.  You can tell he's been exposed to a Dad-E who is currently training for a marathon, and a Mom-E who has run 2 marathons, when even things like swinging a "rope" are referred to with an emphasis on "training."

2.  How funn-e would it be to suggest that Mom-E do some rope-swinging "training" while we pack lunches, do dishes, clean up mess, and do laundry after the kids go to bed.  I can just picture Mom-E swinging a rope with one hand while folding a shirt with the other.  Ha!

Of course, the other thing you need to know is that rope swinging training can be quite hazardous, even beyond the obvious risk of smacking yourself (or your brothers) in the face with the rope.

No, yesterday, the boys were messing with the pocket watch chain, and Little Brother managed to get it caught through his finger like a fish hook.  Amazingly, very little blood.  Fortunately, able to bend his finger and feel pain.  So, after taking the "rope" out of his finger, a little soap and water and bandaid + a lot of tears (he told us he was too sad to drink some motrin) + 1 episode of Power Rangers, and he was ready to start swinging ropes again.

(Not that we let him.  In fact, the pocket watch chain has now permanently disappeared - or "up-in-here'd" - as the boys used to say.)

Have a good weekend,
Train hard,
Busy-Dad-E

Paper Costume

So, being 4, Little Brother is all about superheroes and costumes.

As you can tell from mask, right now we're all about Power Rangers.

I'm sorry, but if "Go go Power Rangers!" has to play in my head all day, then I will re-gift to you.

But, upon closer inspection, you might notice some "oddities" about Little Brother's costume.

No, he does not have casts on all 4 limbs.  Those are, in fact, pieces of paper that he decorated himself and then had Mom-E assist with taping.

And by taping, I don't mean Mom-E wrapped the paper around a limb and then taped it together.

I mean that when Little Brother wants to use tape, he WANTS TO USE tape.

Thus, the paper legs are taped to his socks.  The paper arms are attached to the Iron Man gloves he's wearing.

As you might imagine, this leaves our superhero in a bit of a quandary should he be paged for assistance.  The options are pretty much either:
1. Move quickly and rip your costume.
2. Move slowly/waddle without bending your legs or arms (and risk the bad guy getting away - to a tree, where they live according to Bab-E Brother, incidentally).
3. Don't move at all.
4. Don't ever take the costume off (because well, you can't, at least without ruining it.)

On Friday (when this all went down), we decided to go out to eat, and of course Little Brother announced that he would be wearing his costume to dinner.

Channelling my inner Cousin Eddy, I said, "When he gets fixated on this, Mom-E, it's best to just let him finish."

Of course, we don't even get out the door before Little Brother bumps into something or someone bumps into him (truly accidentally) and the costume rips.

The solution to which is MORE TAPE!  (Did I just here a cowbell?)

Well, by the time we get into the van, we've had several rounds of ripping and tape.  Finally in utter frustration, Little Brother basically shreds his costume onto the floor of the van.

Nice.

Amazingly, the next morning he's at it again with more paper taped around his legs.

And not so amazingly, the paper is ripping and frustration and tears are mounting.

Finally, Mom-E and I have to step in.  We have a heart-to-heart talk about "Have you ever seen a costume at the store made of paper?" "Why? Because it's hard to move in one and they rip really easily." "You're so creative.  This is such a wonderful idea, but it sure seems to make you frustrated."  "Would you like to make another book about spiders?"

Yes, he's been illustrating books about spiders lately.  More of that to come later.

Until then, have a good week,
Busy-Dad-E

And They Called It Puppy Love

(The funny part is that despite it's cuteness, if Little Brother awoke to find Pupp-E snuggled up against him, he'd likely scream bloody murder).

Happy Wordless Wednesday!
Busy-Dad-E

40 Minutes

So the other evening, Mom-E and Dad-E went on a nice little date.

We have some good friends with two boys who are the same ages as Big Brother and Bab-E Brother, and the 5 boys enjoy playing together.  So, from time to time, their boys come over to our house while their parents go out on a date, and vice-versa.

Side note - everyone has a good time when they come over, and Mom-E and I have gotten a glimpse of what it would be like to have 5 boys between the ages of 2 and 7.

*Hold on a minute...I need to go take a nitro.*

(Seriously, the boys are all well behaved, it's just loud, controlled chaos at times.)

Anywho, so Mom-E and I are driving on our date.  We're going to quickly get a sandwich and then catch a movie.

Suddenly, I look at the clock on the dashboard and realize, "We only have 40 minutes to eat and get to the movie!"

Still being in "parent mode", I mentally break down our to-do tasks.  Mom-E and I have 40 minutes to accomplish the following:

1. Get out of the car.

2. Walk into the restaurant.

3. Order our food.

4. Get our food.

5.  Eat our food.

6.  Go to the bathroom.

7.  Walk back to the car.

8.  Get into the car.

9.  Drive to the movie theater (about 5 minutes away).

10.  Park at the movie theater.

11.  Get out of the car (again).

12.  Wait in line for tickets.

13.  Find our theater.

Of course, as you can imagine, Mom-E and I actually breezed through our "to-do" list, with ample time for leisurely, laughable dinner conversation, an extra bathroom break, and enough time to make an extra stop at the grocery store to do all of the weekly shopping.

Okay, so we didn't actually go to the grocery store, but we were not pressed for time.

Apparently, I forgot that when it's just two adults, 40 minutes is an ETERNITY!

Granted, if the boys were with us we'd have to add about 6 more "Go to the bathroom" steps, and a couple more for the eating step, including:

a.  Dance on the tables.

b.  Run around the restaurant screaming like wild monkeys.

I'll clarify that joke by saying I'm just joking.  At least about item (a).

But it's true that what took Mom-E and I 40 minutes probably would've taken us about 2 hours as a family.

And I'm cool with that.

Trust me, a date with Mom-E every now and again is refreshing and relaxing and, well, VERY NECESSARY.

But I still like the joyful chaos.

Have a good week,

Busy-Dad-E

Cat Wars

Episode IV: A New Fear (Uncool Cats) 

Episode V: The Gatos Strike Back

It is a dark time for the Busy-Dad-E family.  Although Little Brother sleeps through most of the night, the Gatos have continued to plague the realms of Little Brother's subconscious, and pursued his dreams if he sleeps in his own bed.

Evading dreaded nightmares of the Gatos, Little Brother, led by his blankie, has established a new secret sleeping location in the remote ice world of Mom-E and Dad-E's bed (and sometimes only if Mom-E and Dad-E hold him until he falls asleep - visibly trembling for our comfort - kinda like the guts of that dead Ton-Ton...but I digress).

The evil Gatos, obsessed with finding young Little Brother, have dispatched thousands of little Gatos into the far reaches of Little Brother's neurons...

***
Our scene begins with Little Brother awakening at 5:45 am, screaming bloody murder, as he discovers that the Gatos have captured him from the remote ice world of Mom-E and Dad-E's bed, and transported him back to his own bed, where he is "all alone" (except for his Big Brother in the bed next to him, Mom-E and Dad-E in the remote ice world right down the hall, and Bab-E Brother in the room next door).

Our scene ends with the fact that it's 5:45 am, and it's time for everyone to go back to bed...even if only for 15 more minutes before the alarm goes off.

Have a good (Gato-free) week,
Busy-Dad-E

Conversations with a 2 Year-Old

Talking with a 2 (closer to 3) year-old is just fascinating.  I love the sheer curiosity about everything, the funny phrasing, and the perseveration.

Just a few of the random conversations/comments from Bab-E Brother lately.  And to make it funnier (and more realistic), you have to say Bab-E Brother's parts REALLY LOUD (just 1 notch below screaming) - he has "voice immodulation, loud type", meaning his voice is stuck at this one volume most of the time.

- He loves to ask where EVERYTHING comes from.  TV's, dresser drawers, Dad-E, blinds, you name it.  Now couple that with the fact that, 75% of the time, when he uses the word "They", he really means "I", and you get the following.

"Dad-E, where does Target come from?"

"Oh, they built the store..."

"No THEY didn't!"

"Yes, technically you're correct.  You didn't build the Target store."

- Big Brother and Little Brother were having a debate about fast-food chicken nuggets, and whether they're good for you.  Big Brother was trying to explain that the chicken itself was okay, but that the "fried" part was unhealthy.  Little Brother didn't like this explanation and was arguing.

Suddenly, Bab-E Brother blurts out, "Your Mom-E says that McDonald's chicken nuggets are BAD FOR YOU!"  (Well, at least we know despite his loud voice, that his ears do indeed still function.)

- He was looking at an image of Jesus, and after a moment deep in thought, proclaims, "Jesus is too big to wear jammies."

Never a dull moment around here.  Never a dull moment.

See you on Fatherhood Friday,

Busy-Dad-E

New 'Nastics

Well, we've started a new adventure in gymnastics, or 'nastics as Little Brother calls it.

And it's been a while since I've written about 'nastics.

We changed to a different gym, mostly due to a much less pervasive smell of feet, better viewing space, a more formal evaluation and feedback process the kids, to make sure they're in the right class.

Oh, and the fact that all 3 boys are now taking 'nastics, and the new gym's classes are such that everyone's class is on the same day in a 2-hour time block.

After taking a leave from gymanstics for a while, Big Brother has returned from the sidelines, and seems to be enjoying himself.

Little Brother has continued to enjoy his 'nastics.  He's really pretty strong, especially given that people accuse him of being Bab-E Brother's twin.  We were briefly worried this week when they changed Little Brother to a different class.  Although they moved him to the right one for his age, he is one of only 2 boys, and let's just say he has absolutely no interest in anything that could be even remotely perceived as gwarrely ("girly").

But in terms of energy, enthusiasm, and excitement, Bab-E Brother definitely takes the cake.

He has been drooling (literally and figuratively) about wanting to do 'nastics, having been relegated to watching Little Brother for months now.  Given his various attempts to do somersaults and other jumps at home and in the viewing area at the gym, it was clear to Mom-E and I that we should sign him up ASAP.

Bab-E Brother is energetic to begin with, but I've never seen him quite so fired up as he was for the first class.

The gym has a very cute little penned off area for the toddlers.  

And while all of the other kids were circled up sitting on their spots, Bab-E Brother pretty much started running around the area, jumping on mats, hanging on bars, etc. 

He was so hyper that he was "that kid."

You know, the one who needs to be simultaneously sprayed with the Ritalin mist-fan and shot with the Benadryl dart gun.

But fortunately, he did calm down (eventually), and without medication.

I was sure that afterwards, the teachers were going to try to sell us a harness for him.

(Insert reference to SNL Sketch with Mike Myers and Nicole Kidman - "My mother says harnesses are cruel."  "My mother says they're very necessary.")

He's very cute.  Bab-E Brother refers to 'nastics as "My School."  And one of his favorite parts is the hand (and foot) stamps they get at the end.

So much so that he informed Mom-E in advance of the class this week that he would NOT be taking a bath that night (to preserve his stamp).  Fortunately, Mom-E had transient occlusion of both of her ears with wax when he said that.

But it's been very fun to watch all of the boys frolick around, jumping in the foam pit, jumping on the trampoline, and in Bab-E Brother's case, pretty much jumping non-stop for a half-hour.

What has been somewhat less fun is chasing Bab-E Brother around the viewing area for the 1.5 out of the 2 hours that he is not doing 'nastics, because the anticipation and excitement seem to linger.

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Busy-Dad-E

Creative Spelling

And, no, I'm not talking about "label" or "usual".

Let's face it, preparation for weekly spelling tests can be a bit tedious (aka it's the third week of school and we're already tired of it.)


And I'm only talking about what it's like for parents!

No doubt for kids it can be quite arduous, too.

This week, we were practicing words on Thursday afternoon for the Friday test.

Big Brother missed about 5 of the 15 words (in part because he was preoccupied with his Trio blocks).

But when we said we were going to practice them again later, he pretty much protested with a "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you have a test tomorrow and you still can't spell some of the words?" I ventured a guess to myself.

Fortunately, when later arrived, Big Brother was at least willing to work on his spelling words.

After spelling "bonus" correctly, Big Brother proceeded to write "poop!" at the bottom of the page.

And that's when one of those moments of parental spontaneity kicked in.

"You know what, Big Brother. Every time you spell a word correctly, you can write 'poop!' or 'pee!' at the bottom of your paper."

Surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly), it worked as a motivator. Other than Little Brother and Bab-E Brother barging into the room just to be ornery, Big Brother maintained pretty good concentration. He got 13 of 15 correct, and got to write "poop!" a lot, which made him happy.

On the flip-side of the page below, we drilled on "label" and "usual" until he had them down, and he got to write "poop!" a bunch more times.

But I opted not to show you that, because you're probably already tired of seeing my kid's "poop!"

Hahahahahaha!

Have a good week,
Busy-Dad-E

Caught Red-Handed

The other night I peeked into Bab-E Brother's room, and found him fast asleep in the following position:

I wasn't sure whether to laugh hysterically, or be mortified, so I did both.

(And while I was immobilized by the humor/horror, Mom-E quickly removed his hand and he promptly rolled onto his belly.)

Happy (Almost) Wordless Wednesday,

Busy-Dad-E

Minty Hot Chocolate Connaisseur

Little Brother has a penchant for a number of things - coins, tiny plastic toys, blankets, ropes, even latex gloves (which, by the way, he now stores in an M&M Mini's container that I once used to store quarters).

But I digress.

One of Little Brother's favorite pastimes is afternoon hot chocolate.

It could be 3000 degrees outside, and the boy will still want hot chocolate.

And, invariably, he has to put something in it (besides the marshmallows, of course).

Perhaps the "mint" gene is X-linked, because he and Mom-E both really like their mint hot chocolate.

For a while, he was content to go with just the generic Starlight peppermints.

Then it expanded to Starlight spearmints.

Next, we crossed over to Tic Tacs.  But not just the white ones.  One night I found myself at the store with green Tic Tacs on the list (amongst many other things).  I figured it was for some kind of school counting project.  But no, alas, just Little Brother's wish to sample every flavor of Tic Tac.

(Dude, by the way, I'd pass on the orange ones.  But then again, maybe you'd like that.)

And this has been shortly followed by pillow mints.

Of course, it's not good enough to add just one thing.  You've gots to combination.

So, Little Brother's current recipe for that perfect cup of afternoon hot chocolate, to keep you hot on that hot summer day, is to "cool it off" with a refreshing combo of spearment Starlights and Tic Tacs, and finish it off with some pillow mints.

Enjoy!  Bon appetit!

Have a minty good week,
Busy-Dad-E

Caramel Wars

Hello Everyone!

I hope you had a nice weekend.

Cheers,
Busy-Dad-E

****
Oh wait!  I guess I should actually write a post. :)  Okay, okay...

There is a certain fast-food restaurant, for which my boys have a little bit of a penchant.

To keep things "anonymous", we'll just call it - as my high school French teacher did - Chez MacDo.

So the folks at Chez MacDo have these Petit Nuggets du Chicken that for some unknown reason the boys really like, and for an even bigger unknown reason think is the only chicken fit for their consumption.

But as I've mentioned before, the one catch is that they need their special "Dunky Dunk", aka Sauce du Caramel.

The funny thing is that with caramel sauce they down the chicken carnivorously, but without the caramel they act like they've been served limburger.  Go figure.  This coming from their Dad-E, who when he was a boy would only eat the mini-Lender's bagels, refusing to eat the full-size ones, as if they were made a fundamentally different matter.  So I guess I kinda can figure.

The caramel issue used to be a "non-issue".  Chez MacDo had nice little packets of Dunky Dunk that came with the apple slices.

And then, for some reason, when Chez MacDo starting including smaller portions of both fries and apples in all Kid's Meals, they got rid of the caramel completely.

OH THE HORROR!!!  AAAHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But I digress.

So, what are a Mom-E and Dad-E of 3 picky eaters to do?

After considering several options, we pretty much resorted to the BEG FOR CARAMEL one.

Most of the time, this works out pretty well:

"What kind of sauce would you like?"

"Could we just get 2 squirts of caramel from the sundae machine, please?"

Often, the response is "Sure, no problem."

Sometimes it's a "Yeah, sure.  I don't know why they got rid of those caramel packets."

(You're telling me!)

Other times, however, I get that "I'm a robot from another planet.  This does not compute." look.

C'mon please.  I KNOW you have caramel.  I will gladly pay for it.  Please sir, may I have some more?

"Uh, I dunno, let me ask the manager about that."  (I understand, those two pumps on the caramel machine are quite the taxing bicep workout.)

Manager: "Yes, sir.  I'm sorry.  We can't do that."

"Why?  Your store actually got it for me 2 weeks ago."

"Well, we're not allowed to just dispense the caramel into an open container.  Health code...yackety smackety...blah blah blah."

"It seems to dispense fine when you put it on top of a sundae?"

"We can't do that."

"Okay, then I'd like to order a caramel sundae, minus the ice cream, please."

"No, that's not necessary.  We'll get it for you (THIS TIME!)"

"Thank you.  I'm not asking for an entire cup full of caramel.  Literally just 2 squirts - just enough to fill up a ketchup container."

I even had a manager explain to me that if every car in the drive thru requested caramel, what a giant mess that would be.

(Probably not any more mess than the backup you created by taking 5 minutes to debate with me about 2 squirts of caramel.)

****
I know, I know.  "Why don't you just BYOC (Bring Your Own Caramel), Busy-Dad-E?"  Besides the logistics of hauling some caramel around everywhere, of course, with our boys, only the caramel from Chez MacDo will do.

Oh mon dieu, sacre bleu!

Parents 0, Boys 1

Awesome Sleeping Position

When Bab-E Brother went to sleep, he was squarely in bed, head on a pillow and snuggled up with his "wubbie" burp towels and favorite stuffed animals.

When I came in his room to check on him in the morning, I found him like this: passed out on the floor, two feet from his bed, towel wrapped around his head.

Let's face it, if I woke up to find Mom-E on the floor like this, I'd worry that something was seriously wrong.

But when we're talking about our children, we know it's because they're just plain awesome.

No doubt he must've had a wild night partying with his Thomas the Train & Friends after we went to bed.

Happy (Not Quite) Wordless Wednesday,

Busy-Dad-E

Do As I Say

Not As I Do, the saying goes.

Such was the case the other evening.

We happened to have some Coke in the fridge.

Little Brother happened to see said Coke.

"Can I have some Coke?" he inquired.

"Can I have some?  I want some, too?" Big Brother and Bab-E Brother echoed.

We've done pretty well with holding off on soft drinks for the boys.

Although not long ago they got a taste of Sprite, which they liked.

And so Sprite became the "gateway drug" that got them to darker-syruped drinks, including Coke and Root Beer (Side note - Little Brother calls it Fruit Beer and Bab-E Brother calls is Root Bear, so I guess between the two of them they're batting .500).

Their absolute favorite, unsurprisingly, is the Coca-Cola Freestyle.  The cornucopia of soft drinks.

But we keep the Coke at a minimum, reserving it for an occasional treat.

Back to our story, the boys actually had a little Coke the night before, so when they asked again, we explained,

"No, we're not going to have any more Coke right now.  I know it tastes good, but it's really not good for you."

Fortunately, they accepted rejection without any significant protest.

As we were getting things together for dinner, Mom-E asked me, "What do you want to drink?"

"What do you want?" I retorted.

With "unified mind", we both answered (softly), "Coke!"

And so I snagged a Coke out of the fridge and handed it to Mom-E, who had nabbed 2 OPAQUE cups.

And while the boys were settling down at the table, Mom-E did what any reasonable parent would do - she snuck back to the other end of the house, opened the Coke, and poured our drinks.

Everyone enjoyed their meal, and fortunately our boys are too short (and they didn't climb on top of the table - this time), and so Mom-E and I drank Coke undiscovered.

Call it "Great Moments in Covert Parenting", or "Do as I say..."

Although I called it "Just plain good."

Have a good week,
Busy-Dad-E

Like Father, Like Son

Happy Fatherhood Friday!

(Busy-Dad-E, circa age 4)


(Little Brother, age 4)

Mom-E is laughing her head of over this photo of me.  "Now I know where this came from!"

Have a good weekend,

Busy-Dad-E