Weston made this valentine for me. It’s a shark. He stuck it in my shoe.
Glamour Shots pt. 2
…to go along with the theme of Weston wearing other people’s glasses.
New York’s got fancy
Julia decided that Paris was the fanciest place on Earth and wouldn’t stop talking about it. In order to show her that New York is every bit as fancy, I took her to Tiffany’s for a daddy-daughter date. At first they tried to sell us stuff, but finally left us alone. One girl thought she’d be nice and pointed out a heart shaped necklace, which failed to capture Julia’s attention. She thought she’d try again. She pulled out a ginormous ring and asked Julia if she knew what it was. Julia nodded and said, “Aquamarine.” The lady was impressed.
The next step in our tour of New York’s fanciness was The Nutcracker Ballet (It iiiiiiiiis the cracker ballet). Julia wore her sparkly shoes and held her dress as she walked up the stairs just like I imagine all princesses do. She sat on the edge of the seat and clapped when everyone else clapped. She got a lot of attention. The lady who sat next to her offered to let her borrow her binoculars because we were of course in the cheap seats. They were much too big for her little head and she covered the lenses with her hands trying to hold them, but that didn’t stop her. She held them to her head and enjoyed the ballet. About half way through the first half, she turned to me and said, “Papa, I am having a lovely time.”
Cracker Ballet
Julia went through a phase when she always wanted to watch the Nutcracker Ballet. Weston left off the first part and called it simply “Cracker Ballet.” Whenever you would try to correct him and say, “It’s Nutcracker Ballet,” Weston would reply, “It iiiiiiiiiis cracker ballet.” If you’d say, “It’s not cracker ballet. It’s nutcracker ballet,” he heard, “It’s not cracker ballet! It’s not cracker ballet!” and would again protest.
Weston’s Glamour Shots
“Hey Papa, that’s me laser gunning.” -Weston
P.S. – There are a few other laser-gunning images in the gallery.
Do Not Disturb
JetBlue seems pretty confident in the sleep eye masks and earplugs they hand out, insisting that it’s a “shut-eye” rather than a “red-eye” flight. I decided to give they’re little survival kit a try. Almost immediately after deciding that I’d live with the embarrassment of wearing the shades, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I don’t even know that I thought through who might be doing the tapping, but I sort of assumed it was Claire teasing me. So, I swatted the hand away and tried to get comfortable. Meanwhile, the flight attendant, who had just tapped on my shoulder, was staring blankly at Claire — wondering how to respond. Though half asleep, I hear a muffled, “Uh…Rich, that wasn’t me.”
Flying in Style
There was a little bit of confusion about one of the rows on our flight. There were three seats but only one boarding pass. The man with the one boarding pass finally had to explain that he had purchased the three seats for himself. Our flight didn’t have a first-class section, so this was one way to guarantee a comfortable flight…or so he must have thought. It was just his luck to pick the row in front of four screaming kids (There was another couple with a four-month-old in the same row). Luckily, we didn’t have the turbulence that made Claire toss her water on the girl sitting in front of her, as was the case flying to Utah, but I imagine we weren’t his ideal neighbors. The flight attendants didn’t dare ask how he enjoyed his flight, and he was not one of the many complimenting us on our well behaved children.
Weston: I’m two.
Friendly JetBlue guy: Really, you’re big for two.
Weston: Yeah, I’m a big boy. I eat all my dinner all gone and get strong muscles.
Alone Time
The other day, we were leaving to go visit Julie, Goddess of the Internet and Weston walked in a different room and said, “I need just a little bit more alone time.” Sometimes this means he has to poop…sometimes it just means he’s a little cranky. A few days ago, Weston and Julia were playing with their new castle and weaving elaborate tales of adventure. Julia was holding the prince and princess and said, “He (the prince) is going to kill all of these guys because they need a little alone time.” A little drastic, eh?
Toll Free
I was driving from Salt Lake to L.A. with a group of students. In the wee hours of the morning, we approached our freeway exit, or, which I came to find out later, was a toll road exit. There were two lanes: one said, “Pay” and one said, “No Pay”…or something to that effect. The choice seemed obvious to me. I’d rather not pay, thank you. I quickly scanned both lanes to make sure there were no spikey things to shred my tires and chose the no-pay lane. No sirens went off, I didn’t have to break through any barriers or anything. Who are the suckers that volunteer to go through the pay lane? That sure is nice of them to give you the option.
When we got to my uncle’s house and I explained what happened, he simply told me to expect a ticket in the mail. I called and explained that I wasn’t from them-there parts and couldn’t read too good (Hence the blog’s reading level — see previous post). They told me they’d take care of the ticket…so, again I ask, who are the suckers that volunteer to go through the pay lane?
Blog For Children Who Can’t Read Good And Wanna Learn To Do Other Stuff Good Too
A friend was complaining about her blog receiving a “genius” reading level — it had a little picture of a brain on it. I wondered how mine would do and if a script could detect potty humor. Anyway, I can’t say I am surprised:
