Yesterday, tragedy hit too close to home when a man went to a mall with a gun and started shooting randomly, killing three people before police killed him. The mall was a mile from where we used to live, and the man was shot at the spot we used to let the kids ride the kiddie rides outside the entrance to Target and the movie theater. It freaks me out to think that families just like ours were there enjoying an afternoon out. It doesn't help to go through life thinking that something like that could happen, but it does make me think about how my parents or gradnparents may not have had to think about things like that when taking their kids to the store, school, or the playground. It's tough being a parent.

There seems to be a lot of discussion lately about whether it's tougher being a parent now or back in the "olden days". I think it's a tough comparison for anyone to make - as a kid, it looked like an easy job. Now that I'm on the other side, I think I was wrong. Times and challenges may change, but tough is tough. Luckily, it's the greatest thing I could think of to do with my life. My kids are awesome, and Jenny makes it fun. It's great facing what they throw at us (figuratively and literally) each day together.

For now we're dealing with things like letting go and allowing Eli to walk down the street to play with neighborhood kids. We can't see him from our house, and it's hard to let our "little boy" grow up. Won't be long until they're asking to borrow the car (fat chance) to go on dates and for signatures on college applications. Until then, we'll try getting over our own anxiety and let them be kids.

Rule Britannia

Just in case Jenny has spoken to you at any time since she's known you and mentioned me keeping a scrapbook about the Queen of England and said something to the effect that I'm smitten, it's time to clear the air and set the record straight. We rented the movie "The Queen" last weekend, and I'm afraid it's sparked her interest in misrepresenting my interests once again. The movie, by the way, was pretty. darn. good.

JENNY'S STORY #1: Chris loves the royal family and has a scrapbook about them.
FACT: in the 2nd grade, I did start and meticulously keep a scrapbook about the royal family which may have been the beginning of a lifelong interest in them. What she doesn't mention to anyone when she's slandering my good name is that it was a project for my Cub Scout den. We had a pack meeting where each Cub Scout was ASSIGNED a country to research and then present something about them. I was ASSIGNED to research England. It just so happened that Prince Charles and Princess Diana got married a few months earlier, so there were lots of articles available. Back then, you see, a scrapbook was a book of scraps cut out of newspapers and magazines on a particular subject, NOT A FADISH HOBBY THAT COSTS LOTS AND LOTS OF MONEY FOR PATTERNED PAPER AND SQUIGLY SCISSORS.

JENNY'S STORY #2: Chris knows more about the British Royal family than he does about his own family lineage.
FACT: I do know a lot about them and I know enough about my own family tree. Jenny's the one that claims Winston Churchill is her great-uncle.

JENNY'S STORY #3: Chris found out that the official website of the British Royal Family actually lists "jobs in the Royal Household" and wishes he'd known about it eight years ago when looking for a job.
FACT: Ok, she's right on this one. They're looking for a Assistant Press Secretary to Her Majesty the Queen right now. Although I am qualified , applicants have to be Only thing is you have to have the right to work in the UK. Dang it.

Take Your Kid to Work Day

Ah, cube sweet cube. Eli asked why my boss' cube was bigger than my cube. "Size doesn't matter, Son. What's important is that I do my work well." He bowed out of an afternoon conference call saying, "I don't think I'm cut out for conference calls."

This Thursday is a big day for me. It'll be a big day for Eli, too. It's Take Your Child to Work Day, and this marks the first year that one of my offspring is eligible to participate. If the constant "how much longer 'til I get to go to work?" routine that started last week when I announced that Eli would get to go is any indication of how excited he is, then he's pretty dang excited. Last night, the question changed from the usual "how many DAYS" to "how many more HOURS." On Sunday, Eli asked when we got home from church if he could use my extra briefcase because he had some things he needs to carry to the office (four days away). I hurriedly emptied the contents out of my black leather executive briefcase and handed it over to him. Ten minutes later he was back saying he was ready to go. The contents, carefully selected and strategically arranged for accessibility and balance, included 238 crayons of various lengths and shades, a Spiderman activity/coloring book only partially completed (he's been needing to get that finished), and two packs of maple sugar instant oatmeal.

I don't know if there was such a thing as TYCTW Day when I was a kid, and I'm not sure if I would have enjoyed it. My dad was the mid-Western blue-collar, hard working type who showered after work, not before, for a reason. I was the seven-year-old kid who when my grandpa took me and my little brother to the store once and said "you can each pick out one thing" picked out a burgundy pleather portfolio with a pad of legal paper, a Bic pen and compartments for gadgets, a stark contrast to the dump truck that made crashing sounds eagerly selected by my kid brother. Seriously, shouldn't that have been a red flag to somebody? That's just not normal. Anyway, after watching me sit in my cube all day, he may wish I had a "fun" job. At least there'll be candy in my drawer.

Grab your Speedo

If you're interested in a low-cost trip from NYC to Paris, France, you may consider consulting Google Maps for directions. Line 22 says "Turn right at Long Wharf". Line 23 states "Swim across the Atlantic Ocean, 3,462 mi", followed by "Slight right at E05" and "At the trafic circle, take the 2nd exit onto E05/Pont Vauban". I know, I caught it, too. No where does it state where to go through Customs/Immigration.
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Busy Easter

Judging by Google Analytics, I don't appear to be the only one who had fun fishing Easter eggs out of pipes last week. I just checked my blog stats, and I had several new visitors who found my blog by doing a web search for "how to remove egg from [insert place here]". I'm pretty stoked to see that now tophersplace is now the first result that shows up when you Google "how to remove an egg from a tailpipe." Well world, there's my contribution.

In other exciting news, one of the "off-brand" TV stations we pick up with our rabbit ears antenna is now playing re-runs of The Wonder Years. I loved that show when it first came on back in the olden days. I could relate to both Paul and Kevin. Paul not so much physically because he was skinny like a pencil on diet pills and I wore husky jeans from Sears, but I was pretty smart. I was like Kevin in that he had a crush on the hottest girl in his class [enter Winnie Cooper], but unlike Kevin, I never had the guts to pursue it in junior high. Doesn't matter now, though, because I get to watch re-runs with the hottest girl I know.