Cavalier

From Sonya:

She was driving home today and found herself in the parking lot of the K-Mart near our home. In her rear view mirror she sees a red Chevy Cavalier with one of those fake leather bra/thong/whatever things across the front. A fat guy was driving it. His chubby girlfriend came out of K-Mart and got in the car with him. What did the sticker across the top of his windshield say?

"NO FAT CHICKS!"

"What does he mean by that?" Sonya asked, "'cause he's fat and shouldn't be judging, and there he is! With a fat chick! In his car!"

"Maybe he means they're not allowed to sit on his car," I guessed.

How 'bout that? Dude was violatin' his own rule, there.

Taa Daa!

Sonya made dinner last night - pasta alfredo with
chicken. However, it wasn't ready before she had to go
to class and we both agreed it was a little too spicy
for John to eat. Sonya made some soup. She ate some,
then left the rest for John to have for dinner.

After Sonya left I made John a bowl of soup and
myself a plate of the pasta with a salad. I put the
food on the tray next to John's high chair. The soup
was full of things John loves: chicken, carrots, rice.

He would eat none of it. Not a bite.
Instead, he kept pointing at my pasta and hooting like
a hungry little monkey.

"Doe! Doe!" he said urgently, pointing at my plate.

(This shouldn't have been a surprise. When macaroni
and cheese is available, John will eat it to the
exclusion of all other foods. The pasta was noodles
with cheesey stuff on them, so I should have known
he'd want it.)

Now, the pasta wasn't blazing-hot spicy or
anything, but it definitely made my mouth warm. Sunday
night John was eating something (chicken? Red beans
and rice?) and he'd gotten an extra spicy bite. He
howled and tried to wipe it off his tongue with his
fingers. It was sad, but funny. I didn't want to
repeat that, though. Still, he wasn't going to eat
anything else...

I gave him a bite.

He chewed it thoughtfully and said, "this, father,
this is what I have waited for my whole life. Please
shovel it in to my little piehole as fast as you can."

I had two helpings. John ate half of each, then he
had a couple of scoops more.

Later, I'm walking down the hall carrying John. I
open the closet where we keep the towels and get out a
washcloth. I give it to John. Then I sit him on the
floor.

"Go in the bathroom," I told him, "it's time for a
bath."

So he walks into the bathroom, lifts the seat on
the toilet and tosses the washcloth in. Then he closes
the toilet, looks at me and gives me a big smile as if
to say, "taa daa! Top that trick, daddy!"

Slow November

Huh. Slow November, I guess. Though if you look back through the archives you'll see that November is historically a slow month here at wonderland 2. It's true. This time of year makes me feel all yearn-y and homesick for places I've never been, and blogging is less of a priority. So what? So you actually had to do work instead of read my drivel between visits to Fleshbot.com and fine-tuning your fantasy football line-up. I probably saved your job last month!

The boy! He is walking everywhere! Non-stop power walking, too. he doesn't stop. If he's not strapped down or asleep he's going somewhere, doing something. He has shoes! Two pairs of sneakers, and he walks just fine in them both.

And the talking! It never, ever stops. He's talked in his sleep a few times here lately. Unfortunately, very little of the talk is in English or any other language known to man. He has a few words we understand. "Dog" is his favorite. Also mama, balloon, and bye-bye. Dog, though, is the workhorse of his vocabulary. Dog is always an appropriate response.

"You hungry, John?"

"Dog."

"Is your diaper wet?"

"Dog."

"Did you kill that hobo?"

"Dog."

Let's see...we went to Memphis for Thanksgiving. There was a lot of turkey. My father in-law actually fried a turkey, which was crazy good. We visited with family and friends. John ate everything in sight. Watched the LSU-Arkansas game with the father in-law, too. It got to be a blowout, though, so he changed the channel. We had John's big birthday party the Saturday after Thanksgiving at my mom's house. Many people showed up, John got a lot of swag. It was a good visit.

We have a Christmas tree! It is fake, but very nice for all that. Sunday we left the house, intending to stop by the Wal Mart for a few essentials and then go on to the Christmas tree place. But! But Wal Mart had a fake six-foot tree for fifteen dollars. Cheap, and we whittle down our running around to one stop. We covered it with lights and our extensive ornament collection. It's amazing how much Christmas crap you can accumulate over a decade and change, huh? So now we have one more place in the house where Sonya and I have to play defense against John's unending curiousity. But it is totally pretty.

Anything else interesting? We went to City Park Saturday night to drive through the Christmas lights with my former co-workers Mark and Ann and their little girl, Shelby. We all rode in their huge, comfortable and swank new minivan. The womenfolk were up front, the kids were strapped into carseats in the middle and Mark and I rode in the back. Luxurious! Buttons everywhere! And the lights were pretty.

"Pitty! Pitty!" Shelby said. John looked, wide-eyed, at all the lights and then fell asleep as soon as we left the park.

Before we went to the park we went to a Chinese buffet to eat. Me and Mark were at the table with the kids, who were running their yaps and smearing macaroni and cheese everywhere.

"Two loud, messy children," I said, "this is what people fear when they go out to eat."

"Fuck 'em," Mark said, "it's an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet. How nice can they expect it to be? It's not like it's Commander's Palace or something like that."