LBN's new semi-regular feature about the things, thoughts and conundrums overheard during the course of a week. Otherwise a bunch of small instances that are good enough to mention, but didn't necessarily deserve a whole story.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Due to weather, distance and prior commitments the LBN team settled on this particular weekend to celebrate Christmas with my family in Michigan.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
After opening a slew of dust covered presents, Cathy decides to give Lucy a heart shaped bag, full of heart shaped candies and heart colored flowers.
"What's this?" Lu asked, looking over the red and pink package.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Cathy shouts. Lucy seems - - surprised. She looks at us, the heart bag, a pile of discarded wrapping paper and finally her newly stacked gifts. Maybe it was all too much for her to take in, but as she methodically unwrapped the foil from a Hershey Kiss, I notice a glint in her eye and it's unmistakable. It's a look that comes only once a year, a look of bliss and whimsical wonderment. It is joy, happiness and love. My friends, it is none other than the Christmas Spir….
"Valentine's Day is awesome!" Lucy screams. As I grit my teeth in horror, I now realize our grievous mistake. Celebrating Christmas on Valentine's Day proved to be a little too confusing for a three year old. It was all too clear that someone is gonna be very upset next year when the only present she gets on Valentine's Day is a cartoon themed box of mystery filled chocolates, courtesy of Russell Stovers.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Somewhere on I-94 between Battle Creek and Kalamazoo I briefly roll down the window next to Ruby for the sole purpose of eliminating a "smell." When Cathy looks over her shoulder to the back seat a few minutes later she notices something's missing.
"Ruby, where is your hat?" Lucy looks up from the book she'd been reading, "Oh yeah, it flew out the window."
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
"Daddy, do you want to hear some Knock-knock jokes? I made them up myself, you can tell your friends if you want, but they are really-really funny." I cannot tell you how many doubts I have about her ability to put together any sort of coherent joke, riddle or what-have-you. But since it is in my good nature to share my living hours with the whole world, no need to thank me and you're welcome.
Lu: Knock-Knock.
Me: Who's there?
L: Sun
M: Sun who?
L: Sun can you give me a shine and a hot on it? (She laughs hysterically as she finishes the "punch-line." I tell her it's funny, she has more).
L: Knock-Knock.
M: Who's there?
L: TV
M: TV who?
L: TV can you watch and give me a hot on it? (Again, she laughs hysterically. I laugh because it's like the first one except different).
L: Knock-Knock.
M: Who's there?
L: Couch
M: Couch who?
L: Couch can you give me a hot ride on it? (She pauses. I don't laugh, it's getting a bit redundant and I don't really get where all the "Hot" stuff is coming from). Let me try another one.
L: Knock-Knock.
M: Who's there?
L: Table (It's clear that's she's just looking around the room and putting good furniture in her bad jokes).
M: Table who?
L: Table can you give me a hot ride and smash your face on it? Is that funny huh?! (I laugh nervously).
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
After struggling aloud for dinner ideas, Lucy speaks up.
"Daddy, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I don't know. What are you thinking?"
"Donut Holes for dinner."
"Nope, can't say I was."
Thursday, February 18, 2010
After an extensive search of the bathroom for an adult type shampoo, I realize the only option is Lucy's Hello Kitty shampoo. Two hours later I realize that the irritating odor of "old-woman" perfume, blueberries and Ben-Gay is in fact my burning head.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Cathy rolls over at 6 am and asks why it smells like a 90 year old woman gumming ribbon candy in a beige sansabelt pantsuit has been in our room? I don't respond.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
After washing my hair for the fourth time in 2 days, I decide that the only way to rid myself of the fragrance that I can only describe as a mix of Mickey Rooney's armpit and nursing home sheets is to shave my head. For the next 4 hours, Ruby cried every time I walked into the room.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
"Daddy, do you have a job?"
"Yeah, I think you could call spending all day watching you and Ruby a job." After a few seconds of what I assumed to be the silent process of weighing both the magnitude and responsibility that comes with being a parent she responds….
"I'm sorry; maybe one day you can learn how to drive a blimp.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Fresh
“Daddy, I want a different glass of milk, this one taste funny, I think it’s fresh.” I roll my eyes; knowing all too well that further questioning would be futile, for once Lucy deemed something “fresh,” it was otherwise undrinkable. With her arms folded squarely across her chest and her nose pointed up at the poorly hung chandelier illuminating our dining room table, she pleads for a new glass, an “ice-cold” glass.
I’m not exactly sure how or why this started, but for some reason Lucy has classified all beverages into two categories. They are either considered “fresh,” which could mean any one of the following: Warm, smells funny, tastes funny, looks funny, thick or orange. Everything else is considered “ice-cold.” To make matters even more confusing ice cubes do not turn “fresh” drinks into “ice-cold” drinks, but sometimes switching cups can. It is also interesting to point out that if you were to… let’s say take a drink out of Lucy’s cup that was filled with “ice-cold” chocolate milk, it would instantly become “fresh,” unless you give her a straw. A straw has the uncanny ability to turn “fresh” into “ice-cold,” but this trick only works on milk, shakes and smoothies… that is, until today.
“Its not helping dad, it’s still fresh.”
“But I gave you a straw.”
“I know, but it’s not working. The milk taste strange… or wetter. I don’t like it.” The truth is, I know exactly what she’s talking about and I couldn’t have put it better myself, the “wetter” part anyway. Let me explain….
We spend, on average $87.69 a month on milk. Milk? Yes, milk. That is more than our electricity, cable, water and phone services. That’s right my friends, our average monthly “milk bill” is second only to rent. Seems crazy right? Why so much? Are we drinking the milk of new born unicorns? Have we stumbled upon a magical creature whose lactatious secretions can cure 12 kinds of cancer, make your breath smell like purple sunbeams, turn flatulence into Burt Bacharach melodies and last but not least, allows us to speak telepathically to the late great Bea Arthur during the first full moon of each month? Thank you, thank you for being a friend. The answer is yes…kinda.
You see in this household we drink… cow milk. I know, big deal, so what, we all drink “cow” milk. Oh, no-no-no, wait-wait-wait, this milk doesn’t come from one of those stupid lazy cows you see in pictures or movies who just stand by a fence deciding which stomach their gonna ploop their current mouthful of grassy wet cud into. No sir, we get our milk from “organic” farmed cows… they come from heaven. And at $5.99 a gallon that’s what I have to convince myself every time I buy some.
I’ll admit I do spend a suspicious amount of time at the grocery store checking out the $2.99 stuff I drank when I was a kid, I’m not gonna lie, we had some good times. But I’m always snapped back to reality the moment someone grabs a jug and puts it into their cart, I wanna yell, “Hey, you with the mortal’s milk. Do you even know who milked the lazy cow responsible for producing that creamy white mess you allow your children to pour over their Fruit Loops? Do yuh? No?! Well, it was a person, or a machine or something. You don’t know, you don’t know nothin’.” This outburst would no doubt alert the manager to the crazy man berating innocent bystanders in the dairy aisle, and within seconds I’ll be schlepped out the doors by my collar screaming “Free Attica!” Then I’d laugh all the way home knowing that the organic milk my daughters will be enjoying for dinner was righteously squeezed by the tiny yet aggressive hands of Zeus himself. Now that’s quality you can’t put a price on. Cool, yummy, rich, delicious organic milk, “The bovine nectar of Gods.”
So for three and a half years, I was fine letting my daughters drink this outrageously expensive elixir that my wife has claimed, “Prevents the early onslaught of an un-natural puberty (I’m paraphrasing).” Apparently, a few years ago she heard that somewhere in Europe, a 5-year-old girl started to “mature” at a rate that is usually reserved for the teen years. Anyway, after hundreds of tests (at least that is what I’m assuming), Someone decided this problem was caused by the extra hormones that are placed into non-organic milk and not the nuclear power plant she lived next door to (Okay, I made that last part about the nuclear power plant up. But really, Milk? I can’t imagine all the possibilities that were eliminated before someone said, “Well it’s not the ozone or high electromagnetic fields, let’s try milk. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll try Skittles.” I’m just sayin’… it seems like a stretch). Thus, our organic milk experiment began, although not without trepidation. Sooner or later I think we both knew (I’m frugal), the numbers were gonna get to me…
$5.99 per gl. x 3 per wk = $17.97 x 4(weeks a month) = $71.88 x 12(months a year) = $862.56 annually, for milk! (Tax not included)… which brings us to today and Lucy’s glass of “fresh--wetter” milk.
I’ve been watering it down, hard, and I make no apologies. Folks, we are living in turbulent times, you don’t need me to tell you that. The economy is in the tank and I’m unemployed. I’m doing something good, something commendable; I’m stretching the almighty dollar. So what? So, maybe Lucy has to drink a few glasses of “Organic Lite” for a couple of years. Just imagine all the money we’ll be saving. If I can eliminate just one gallon a week that’s an annual savings of $287.52! With that amount of money, I could buy this household something it really needs, Scotch. A nice hand crafted, single malt bottle of “ice-cold” Scotch.
*I did absolutely no research whatsoever on the benefits or hazards of drinking “organic” milk. I have however done some personal research on the benefits of a good Scotch and I think it could be worth the investment. I’m also gonna catch hell from my wife.
As always, you can also find me at ChicagoParent.com
I’m not exactly sure how or why this started, but for some reason Lucy has classified all beverages into two categories. They are either considered “fresh,” which could mean any one of the following: Warm, smells funny, tastes funny, looks funny, thick or orange. Everything else is considered “ice-cold.” To make matters even more confusing ice cubes do not turn “fresh” drinks into “ice-cold” drinks, but sometimes switching cups can. It is also interesting to point out that if you were to… let’s say take a drink out of Lucy’s cup that was filled with “ice-cold” chocolate milk, it would instantly become “fresh,” unless you give her a straw. A straw has the uncanny ability to turn “fresh” into “ice-cold,” but this trick only works on milk, shakes and smoothies… that is, until today.
“Its not helping dad, it’s still fresh.”
“But I gave you a straw.”
“I know, but it’s not working. The milk taste strange… or wetter. I don’t like it.” The truth is, I know exactly what she’s talking about and I couldn’t have put it better myself, the “wetter” part anyway. Let me explain….
We spend, on average $87.69 a month on milk. Milk? Yes, milk. That is more than our electricity, cable, water and phone services. That’s right my friends, our average monthly “milk bill” is second only to rent. Seems crazy right? Why so much? Are we drinking the milk of new born unicorns? Have we stumbled upon a magical creature whose lactatious secretions can cure 12 kinds of cancer, make your breath smell like purple sunbeams, turn flatulence into Burt Bacharach melodies and last but not least, allows us to speak telepathically to the late great Bea Arthur during the first full moon of each month? Thank you, thank you for being a friend. The answer is yes…kinda.
You see in this household we drink… cow milk. I know, big deal, so what, we all drink “cow” milk. Oh, no-no-no, wait-wait-wait, this milk doesn’t come from one of those stupid lazy cows you see in pictures or movies who just stand by a fence deciding which stomach their gonna ploop their current mouthful of grassy wet cud into. No sir, we get our milk from “organic” farmed cows… they come from heaven. And at $5.99 a gallon that’s what I have to convince myself every time I buy some.
I’ll admit I do spend a suspicious amount of time at the grocery store checking out the $2.99 stuff I drank when I was a kid, I’m not gonna lie, we had some good times. But I’m always snapped back to reality the moment someone grabs a jug and puts it into their cart, I wanna yell, “Hey, you with the mortal’s milk. Do you even know who milked the lazy cow responsible for producing that creamy white mess you allow your children to pour over their Fruit Loops? Do yuh? No?! Well, it was a person, or a machine or something. You don’t know, you don’t know nothin’.” This outburst would no doubt alert the manager to the crazy man berating innocent bystanders in the dairy aisle, and within seconds I’ll be schlepped out the doors by my collar screaming “Free Attica!” Then I’d laugh all the way home knowing that the organic milk my daughters will be enjoying for dinner was righteously squeezed by the tiny yet aggressive hands of Zeus himself. Now that’s quality you can’t put a price on. Cool, yummy, rich, delicious organic milk, “The bovine nectar of Gods.”
So for three and a half years, I was fine letting my daughters drink this outrageously expensive elixir that my wife has claimed, “Prevents the early onslaught of an un-natural puberty (I’m paraphrasing).” Apparently, a few years ago she heard that somewhere in Europe, a 5-year-old girl started to “mature” at a rate that is usually reserved for the teen years. Anyway, after hundreds of tests (at least that is what I’m assuming), Someone decided this problem was caused by the extra hormones that are placed into non-organic milk and not the nuclear power plant she lived next door to (Okay, I made that last part about the nuclear power plant up. But really, Milk? I can’t imagine all the possibilities that were eliminated before someone said, “Well it’s not the ozone or high electromagnetic fields, let’s try milk. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll try Skittles.” I’m just sayin’… it seems like a stretch). Thus, our organic milk experiment began, although not without trepidation. Sooner or later I think we both knew (I’m frugal), the numbers were gonna get to me…
$5.99 per gl. x 3 per wk = $17.97 x 4(weeks a month) = $71.88 x 12(months a year) = $862.56 annually, for milk! (Tax not included)… which brings us to today and Lucy’s glass of “fresh--wetter” milk.
I’ve been watering it down, hard, and I make no apologies. Folks, we are living in turbulent times, you don’t need me to tell you that. The economy is in the tank and I’m unemployed. I’m doing something good, something commendable; I’m stretching the almighty dollar. So what? So, maybe Lucy has to drink a few glasses of “Organic Lite” for a couple of years. Just imagine all the money we’ll be saving. If I can eliminate just one gallon a week that’s an annual savings of $287.52! With that amount of money, I could buy this household something it really needs, Scotch. A nice hand crafted, single malt bottle of “ice-cold” Scotch.
*I did absolutely no research whatsoever on the benefits or hazards of drinking “organic” milk. I have however done some personal research on the benefits of a good Scotch and I think it could be worth the investment. I’m also gonna catch hell from my wife.
As always, you can also find me at ChicagoParent.com
Thursday, January 21, 2010
UPDATE: 2010
Hey Everyone-
We're sick! We're not dead (stupid wikipedia). Between dodging speeding phlegm-bits and uncrusting snot covered nostrils, I've been working hard to get LBN crusin' into the new year, unfortunately a run of sleepless nights and the emergence of a new tooth have definitely slowed the creative process a tad. However, I'm hopeful that LBN will have a new post before Monday, if not sooner.
Anyway, I really wanted to thank all of you for continuing to follow and spread the LBN word for the last 6 months. The more fans/readers LBN has, the better our odds are at getting noticed by someone who wants to turn this into a book, column, reality TV show, made for TV movie, comic, calendar, animated Pixar film, video game or snack cake. So please continue to do whatever it is you're doing that has us closing in on 10,000 hits, 400 fans and a ton of positive feedback. I'm optimistic that one of the many literary agents who have been bombarded by my poorly written submission letters will eventually write back and say that my dream of turning this into any sort of income, book or other are completely absurd and it will never-ever happen. At least that way, I'll know that they read it. Thanks and see you soon.
Jim
We're sick! We're not dead (stupid wikipedia). Between dodging speeding phlegm-bits and uncrusting snot covered nostrils, I've been working hard to get LBN crusin' into the new year, unfortunately a run of sleepless nights and the emergence of a new tooth have definitely slowed the creative process a tad. However, I'm hopeful that LBN will have a new post before Monday, if not sooner.
Anyway, I really wanted to thank all of you for continuing to follow and spread the LBN word for the last 6 months. The more fans/readers LBN has, the better our odds are at getting noticed by someone who wants to turn this into a book, column, reality TV show, made for TV movie, comic, calendar, animated Pixar film, video game or snack cake. So please continue to do whatever it is you're doing that has us closing in on 10,000 hits, 400 fans and a ton of positive feedback. I'm optimistic that one of the many literary agents who have been bombarded by my poorly written submission letters will eventually write back and say that my dream of turning this into any sort of income, book or other are completely absurd and it will never-ever happen. At least that way, I'll know that they read it. Thanks and see you soon.
Jim
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