Fun with Dad

Some dads play catch with their boys. Some take them to the park. Not me, man. Quality time with my boys means gathering around for some good ol' fashioned PhotoShop fun! With input from Eli and Nathan, I put my sweet skills to the test to create the following:

This one I call "Faces Only a Mother Could Love". They started with the faces, but then they said they wanted big hands, feet, and tummies, just like Dad's.
Then they said "make us into aliens!" I did my best. This is actually a pretty good representation of who I sometimes wonder if they really are.

Running

After a ridiculous day at work (mostly people, not the work), I really wanted to run outside instead of on the treadmill. I'm starting to gear up for the 1/2 marathon, although the training doesn't have to be as serious as the crazies in the family working on a full marathon. I ran six miles on the treadmill Saturday. Tonight I ran 4.5 miles outside, only stopping for quick drinks of water. I think I'll have to rethink my dislike of running outside. I've been known to say that I prefer the treadmill because I can watch TV and that outside running is boring. However, I do a lot of interesting thinking when I run outside. Here are tonight's thoughts:
1. I still can't believe how uncomfortable it was to run, if even for a second, on the wet sand along Lake Michigan. Just what was that they ran on in Chariots of Fire? I'm not buying that it was a real beach. They just looked too happy.
2. I wonder if that wire hanging from the power line next to the sidewalk is live. I should probably be a responsible citizen and call the utility company when I get home.
3. Who decided that the "it's ok to walk across the intersection now" walking man symbol should be in white lights? The hand is red, like a red light, so why isn't the walking man green? It could be like the leprechaun is the international symbol for safe street crossing.
4. I do math problems in my head when I run outside, and I think I know why. I hate [Maria, cover your eyes] math but when I think about math problems, the time seems to fly by, and before I know it, I've run a mile just trying to remember what a square root is and in what situations would I need to know it. I've still never encountered one.
5. If I was Paris Hilton and was getting out of the klink tonight, what would I do first? I'd probably go to Taco Bell for a Crunch Wrap and Diet Dr. Pepper.
6. It's better to take a drink BEFORE pouring a little water on your forehead. If you douse your noggin first and then drink right after, you're guaranteed to swallow all the sweat you just rinsed off. Some mistakes you only make once, I guess.
7. Fast food joints stink - literally. I've never noticed the smell just driving by, but maybe there's something about running past them. Long John Silver's is the worst offender. Almost makes me never want to eat fast food again (except for Crunch Wraps).
8. Why do most of my blog posts take the form of numbered lists?

Things I Learned on Vacation

1. When driving through Chigago during rush hour on a Friday afternoon of a holiday weekend, the five miles you drive on the toll road at 5 MPH really will take an hour.

2. Giving a child a bottle of water at one rest stop guarantees you'll have to stop at the next one so he can pee. Then another child, who went pee at the previous rest stop, will now be thirsty. And the cycle goes unbroken through five states.

3. A two and a half year old may at any time figure out that saying "poop" outloud in public places is funny. And it is the first few times. By the end of a four day road trip, though, it's not.

4. Running barefoot along a sandy beach is not as easy as it looks in Chariots of Fire.

5. If your kids have been begging you for a dog, take them to a family member's house where they can help take care of one. After a few days of reality, they probably won't want one.

6. The McDonald's in Malcom, Iowa, gives out big bags of wet wipes and cookies to families with kids, for FREE. It's only when you get back in the car that you'll realize the cookies expired last week. They were yummy all the same.

7. If you wear a t-shirt that says "Property of NASA" into a K-Mart in rural Indiana, the cashier will naturally ask you if you're an astronaut, and be serious about it. The dilema, then, is whether or not to tell her "no, I bought it at the thrift store" (which I did), or "Yes. I just landed in the parking lot because we ran out of generic vanilla wafers and oatmeal cream pies on the International Space Station. Sorry I can't chat longer, but I left the shuttle idling."

Penguins and Chipmunks

Q: What do Al Gore's Penguin Posse and Chip N' Dale have in common?

A: They love my children.



Why? Let's start at the beginning. There's a certain thing that parents (particularly the ones who have to pay the utility bill) learn to bark at their children at an early age. "Close the door!" This age-old command has various forms, perhaps depending on the locale of the parents' own childhood. Some of those variations include "Were you raised in a barn?" "Are you trying to cool off the entire neighborhood (or the wintertime variation - 'heat' the entire neighborhood)?" "Well that explains why penguins keep showing up at our house" "We chose to buy a house instead of a tent for a reason!" and the like. My own three boys have heard it more than a thousand times during any given week, and in tones of various levels of love, and, um, strong encouragement.



Today, following a morning track meet for Eli and a trip to see Thomas the Tank Engine at an old-fashioned railway museum an hour away, I had just gone out to the garage to pull out the lawn mower (I closed the door after I went out). I thought I heard Jenny screaming my name from inside the house, but I ignored it and proceeded to start up the lawnmower. Shortly thereafter, a barefoot and frazled Jenny stood on the front porch yelling at me. I turned off the mower to hear "There's a chipmunk in the house! I was sitting [I'm not supposed to disclose that she was in the restroom] and I saw it! A chipmunk!" Crazy woman, I thought. So I donned my shiny armor and told her to move aside that I'd go check it out. And just as I suspected, nothing. No chipmunk. I pulled everything out of every corner and closet in the basement where she "saw" it, and nothing.



Fast-forward three hours: Jenny and I are upstairs talking when Eli came yelling "Guess what, guys? There's a chipmunk downstairs. Isn't that cool?" So downstairs I go, again, armed with a Batman sword that lights up and makes sounds like iron swords clanking together in the height of battle. SURE ENOUGH! THERE IT WAS! The little bugger that lives below the porch that we often see playing in the yard. And here he was, in my basement. [I take back what I said, now, about Jenny being crazy.] By this time Nathan had joined Eli and me, and the three of us engaged in a round-up, of sorts. We cornered him and quickly set up a corral through which we planed to herd him from the family room into the laundry room and finally out the back door. Once the corral walls are together, I took my sword back to the corner where he was hiding under the tv cabinet. He's gone. Just then, screams from upstairs. I took my two squires upstairs where we found Jenny standing on a stool (I'm now convinced that the cartoons have been portraying a real medical/mental condition that exists in women that make them jump when they see rodents).



After a few smartly manouvered steps, we shooed him out the sliding door. Victory was ours. After a brief celebration, and apology to the lady of the house, came another lecture about why we expect the boys to close the doors when they go in and out. Not only have they been doing their part to off-set global warming (subliminal message: Al Gore's a doofus), but they'd literally put out the welcome mat to our backyard pests.