Archives: drunken midgets

Box Trolls!

thin-waist

Julia drew this independently of the movie, but it seemed appropriate. Box Trolls is great. I think it’s better than Paranorman, and possibly better than Coraline. Keep your expectations in check, but go see it.

Art Good Ju-Ju

Let it go

Harper: I’m never let going.
Rich: OK, now say that correctly.
Harper: Sometimes, I let go.

Hardy Har Har-per

Whale!

We had been on the boat for about 10 minutes, but I had already lost hope of seeing any whales. I really like whales. Whales and octopuses (or “octopi” if you prefer) tie for first place on my list of coolest living creatures. (Have you seen this video? Or this one?)

So, in order to avoid disappointment, I was comforting myself with the fact that the boat ride was already a lot of fun. We were all standing at the front of the boat, enjoying the wind and the waves. Everyone was looking off to the right, where the most recent sighting had been.

Maybe I was wallowing a bit (I really wanted to see some whales), but I was staring down at the water in front of the boat. Suddenly, the water became slightly grey, and the grey was expanding, replacing the blue that was there before. There was a little monologue happening in my brain:

Hey, what’s that?
I think that might be a whale!
A whale!
That’s a whale!!

Although my brain was screaming, I wasn’t saying a word — and no one else was either.

Suddenly, I just started yelling, “WHAAAAAAAAAALE! WHAAAALE! WHAAAALE! WHAAAAAALE!”

Noise erupted as everyone noticed the whale emerging from the water. It was so close, the boat had to slam on the brakes and quickly switch to reverse to avoid an accident.

On second thought, maybe the octopus is a close second.

drunken midgets my family and other animals rich and beautiful richie

Harper and the Wee-Wees

cute kid on a boatWhen Harper was young, she couldn’t quite pronounce the name of her best friend, Avery. Whenever she saw Avery, she would scream, “Wee Wee!” I would scream “Wee Wee” as well just because I thought it was funny — and because it seemed to irritate her parents. I continued doing it long after Harper stopped (or started saying it correctly). Avery always laughed and said, “My name is not ‘Wee Wee!'”

It soon escalated to the point that all of Harper’s friends were playing the game. Whenever they saw me, they would immediately warn me not to call them “Wee Wee.” I would of course respond by calling them “Wee Wee,” and they would run away giggling.

One morning, Harper came in my room, and we were talking about the upcoming day. She then came up with what is probably a more acceptable way to refer to small children than what I had been using up to this point, “drunken midgets.” I don’t remember what she said, but it involved “the wee-wees” coming over.

…I also think it would make a good name for a band, but I tend to think that about everything.

drunken midgets Hardy Har Har-per

Wavey Wavey

We were talking about our plans for the day. Harper said she was excited for one particular activity, which was not yet a fixed part of the plan. Harper often does this as a way to ensure that decisions are made in her favor. Weston attempted to manage her expectations and said that the activity — I don’t remember what it was, or I would be able to use fewer pronouns to talk about it — was “wavey-wavey”. I asked Weston what he meant, and he said, “You know, wavey wavey,” rocking (or waving) his hand back and forth, the common gesture to imply uncertainty. Just in case it turns into a common phrase, I want to be sure Weston gets credit.

drunken midgets Hardy Har Har-per Wild West'n

Bizarre Pinewood Derby Car

weston-boxing-deranged

It was 7pm (2-3 hours to my bedtime), and the cars needed to be completed and weighed the next day. I was going to be busy at work the day of the deadline, so there was no way to further procrastinate. I had three hours.

A few weeks earlier, Weston and I had watched Rocky IV in a hotel during a mini family vacation. Weston’s description of what he wanted was basically a supine Rocky figurine with wheels. I decided that etching Weston’s photo, posing as his favorite pugilist, would be a quick and easy solution. Although he was constantly bouncing around the house as though he was in a championship fight for the title, I don’t think he practiced any of his faces in front of a mirror. He either looked too happy, too sad (like he was losing and wanted to cry), or just completely deranged. We took about 30 photos before getting one I thought would work…then decided to use a deranged photo instead — just because it was funnier.

After etching his photo onto the car, I realized the deranged photo didn’t show his arms. Thinking Weston would be disappointed with a boxing car that doesn’t have arms with which to box, we looked through all of the toys to find some arms that might work. We nailed some arms to the block, so we could still rotate them as though Weston was swinging. In a very strange way, the arms matched Weston’s expression and his face didn’t seem any more deranged than the expressions Rocky makes during the big fights.
eye-of-the-tiger

drunken midgets Wild West'n

Ghost Head and Floating Marshmallow

floating-marshmallow
Harper drew this today and said it was a ghost head and a floating marshmallow. I think that would be a great name for a band…

Art drunken midgets Hardy Har Har-per

The Birds

the-birds Weston drew some pretty rad birds.

Art drunken midgets Wild West'n

Get it Together

conrad-sandwichConrad came wandering into our room after everyone, including Conrad, had gone to bed. His eyes were half open, but he wasn’t responding to any of my questions. He just stood by me and looked around. I asked one last time, “What’s up, Conrad?” He looked off to the side while pounding his fists together like a baseball catcher, and said in a reassuring tone, “We’ve got it together.”

I laughed a little, then tried to clarify…”We? You and I have it together?” Conrad said yes, then climbed into our bed (not his own).

drunken midgets King Con

40 Pounds

When we go on hikes — which can often be five miles or longer — Harper needs us to carry her on our backs part of the way. I think Weston was a little tired himself and asked us how much Harper weighs. Claire answered, “About 40 pounds.” Harper chimes in and asks, “Is that how much I cost?”

Clearly, she takes after her Anglophile grandpa and thinks in pound sterling.

drunken midgets Hardy Har Har-per