First I shoot. Then I dance. Then I make time for the ladies.
Friday, October 29
Saturday, October 16
Tuesday, September 7
Tuesday, June 22
Barber Shop
"Where are we going today, Noah?"
"The barber shop."
"What's the barber going to do?"
"Cut my hair."
It would be the first time. By the hour we left the house for Sulimay's Hair Design today, Lynne's campaign of pro-scissor propaganda had reached full saturation. Noah, who has greeted his parents' attempts at haircuttery with rage and perpetual motion, was practically begging to hop up in a barber chair.
It was high time.
BEFORE
He joined the line in third position, and watched a couple old-timers get the treatment first. Sitting in a plain old regular chair was no fun, so presently we went outside to jump off paving stones for a spell. The suggestion of a lollipop got his legs churning back toward Jim, who was just finishing up his last customer.
SCISSORS OUT
Not a tear, not a complaint. There was a brief "Uppie daddy" request during a pause, but he remained stoic even when the electric clippers came out for some around-the-ear work. A polite "thank you" at the end, and then we were back in the car, where he pitched the idea of ice cream for lunch. "I'm itchy," he said. Instead we had cheddar, avocado, hummus and bread.
AFTER
"The barber shop."
"What's the barber going to do?"
"Cut my hair."
It would be the first time. By the hour we left the house for Sulimay's Hair Design today, Lynne's campaign of pro-scissor propaganda had reached full saturation. Noah, who has greeted his parents' attempts at haircuttery with rage and perpetual motion, was practically begging to hop up in a barber chair.
It was high time.
BEFORE
He joined the line in third position, and watched a couple old-timers get the treatment first. Sitting in a plain old regular chair was no fun, so presently we went outside to jump off paving stones for a spell. The suggestion of a lollipop got his legs churning back toward Jim, who was just finishing up his last customer.
SCISSORS OUT
Not a tear, not a complaint. There was a brief "Uppie daddy" request during a pause, but he remained stoic even when the electric clippers came out for some around-the-ear work. A polite "thank you" at the end, and then we were back in the car, where he pitched the idea of ice cream for lunch. "I'm itchy," he said. Instead we had cheddar, avocado, hummus and bread.
AFTER
Thursday, June 3
Monday, May 31
Sunday, April 25
Goggles
Or as Noah calls them, "My swimming pool glasses."
He dropped some solid vocabulary on the young woman helping us buy shoes yesterday. The store had a pretty extensive toy-train set, with bridges and hills and a refueling station and a maintenance shed. After pushing a steam engine and a hopper car to the middle of one span, Noah looked up to inform the saleswoman, "It's a trestle."
"I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that word out loud," she said, and then went to look for the blue Stride Rites in a children's 8.
Monday, April 12
Sunday, April 4
Sweet Tooth
Easter Exclamations:
9am: "Jelly beans! Jelly beans! Jelly beans!"
10:30am: "I want candy."
10:45am: "It's a lollipop. I like it. [Slurp.] You lick it. [Drool.] I like it. [Slurp.]"
12:30 - 1pm: [Haircut. Redacted.]
1:30pm: "I bumped my noggin'!"
7:30pm: "It's a basket. Noah's basket. Stamps in it. Books in it. Candy in it. I want candy!"
8:25pm: "I have candy. Then Mommy take it away."
Monday, March 29
Q & A
Boys day at Seger Park, and Noah’s got a loop going at the big-kids jungle gym. Climb the ladder, spin the steering wheel, sit in the right-hand slide, whiz down the chute, scamper back to the beginning. He’s laying down the usual soundtrack: “London Bridge” and “Three Blind Mice” and “Now I Know My ABCs” set on random, plus a clockwork shout to end each circuit. Do it again!
We don’t have much conversation, exactly, these days. More like the occasional short soliloquy plus a bit of jibber jabber. “Birdie tweet tweet jibber jabber jibber jabber in the sky!” “Kitty cat jibber jabber no kitty cat!” “Button, one two penny, jibber jabber jibber!”
Still, that’s better than I manage with close relations half the time, and anyway, if you know as many verses of “Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush” as Noah does, there’s not much time left over for dialogue.
Up the ladder, spin the wheel, down the slide. Do it again! Up the ladder, spin the wheel, down the slide.
And then, out of nowhere, he looks up and says, “Ask me a question.”
“What?”
“Ask me a question!”
Well this is new. “A question? Okay. I’ve got one. Ready?”
“Ready?”
“If Train A leaves Pittsburgh traveling east at 30 miles per hour, and Train B goes west from Philadelphia at 40 miles per hour, how many passengers will get hit with the federal estate tax when the trains explode in Altoona?”
“Daddy! None, unless the collision takes out a Rolls Royce. Only one out of every 200 estates is big enough to trigger the tax! Why are you even wasting my time on this foolishness? Jibber jabber!”
Which was totally the correct answer, only we didn’t get quite that far. It was more like this.
“Ready?”
“Ready?”
“Is the slide fun?”
“Is the slide fun?”
“Noah! You have to answer the question! How about this one. Where is mommy?”
“Where is mommy?”
“Honey, the way it works is that I ask a question and you tell me an answer. So if I ask, ‘Where is mommy?’ you can tell me, ‘Mommy’s at work.’ Or when I ask, ‘Is the slide fun?’ you can tell me ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’”
“Yes or no.”
“Right. Okay. I’ll ask you a question. Do you want to go see the doggies over there?”
“See the doggies over there?”
Impasse. No more of this asking questions exercise. Time to go back to the loop.
He springs to his feet, climbs the ladder, spins the wheel, and whooshes down the slide. Then looks up at me and modifies his request:
“Tell me a question.”
We don’t have much conversation, exactly, these days. More like the occasional short soliloquy plus a bit of jibber jabber. “Birdie tweet tweet jibber jabber jibber jabber in the sky!” “Kitty cat jibber jabber no kitty cat!” “Button, one two penny, jibber jabber jibber!”
Still, that’s better than I manage with close relations half the time, and anyway, if you know as many verses of “Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush” as Noah does, there’s not much time left over for dialogue.
Up the ladder, spin the wheel, down the slide. Do it again! Up the ladder, spin the wheel, down the slide.
And then, out of nowhere, he looks up and says, “Ask me a question.”
“What?”
“Ask me a question!”
Well this is new. “A question? Okay. I’ve got one. Ready?”
“Ready?”
“If Train A leaves Pittsburgh traveling east at 30 miles per hour, and Train B goes west from Philadelphia at 40 miles per hour, how many passengers will get hit with the federal estate tax when the trains explode in Altoona?”
“Daddy! None, unless the collision takes out a Rolls Royce. Only one out of every 200 estates is big enough to trigger the tax! Why are you even wasting my time on this foolishness? Jibber jabber!”
Which was totally the correct answer, only we didn’t get quite that far. It was more like this.
“Ready?”
“Ready?”
“Is the slide fun?”
“Is the slide fun?”
“Noah! You have to answer the question! How about this one. Where is mommy?”
“Where is mommy?”
“Honey, the way it works is that I ask a question and you tell me an answer. So if I ask, ‘Where is mommy?’ you can tell me, ‘Mommy’s at work.’ Or when I ask, ‘Is the slide fun?’ you can tell me ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’”
“Yes or no.”
“Right. Okay. I’ll ask you a question. Do you want to go see the doggies over there?”
“See the doggies over there?”
Impasse. No more of this asking questions exercise. Time to go back to the loop.
He springs to his feet, climbs the ladder, spins the wheel, and whooshes down the slide. Then looks up at me and modifies his request:
“Tell me a question.”
Thursday, February 4
Monday, January 11
Ye of Little Faith
Saturday we go to brunch, ordering pumpkin pancakes off the regular menu for Noah, who wolfs down the lion's share despite having eaten his first breakfast two hours before.
Sunday morning, back to normal. I ask Noah if he wants the usual: eggs with ketchup.
"No!"
"What do do you want, then?"
"Pancake!"
"We don't have any pancakes."
Temper tantrum. We compromise with yogurt.
Lunchtime rolls around. "What would you like to eat, Noah?"
"Pancake!"
So, more yogurt, cut with curried chicken. No temper tantrum this time, but a thin veneer of disappointment with useless old dad.
Dinnertime. "What do you want for dinner, Noah?"
"Ravioli!"
Relief! Now this I can do. I open the freezer. Fill a pot with water. Light the burner.
But what's happening over there? Noah's at his toy stove, fiddling with the wooden knobs and knocking a spoon and fork around in a wooden pot. Periodically squatting to have a look through the oven's windowpane.
"What are you doing, bud?"
"Cooking."
"What are you making?"
"Ravioli."
Sunday morning, back to normal. I ask Noah if he wants the usual: eggs with ketchup.
"No!"
"What do do you want, then?"
"Pancake!"
"We don't have any pancakes."
Temper tantrum. We compromise with yogurt.
Lunchtime rolls around. "What would you like to eat, Noah?"
"Pancake!"
So, more yogurt, cut with curried chicken. No temper tantrum this time, but a thin veneer of disappointment with useless old dad.
Dinnertime. "What do you want for dinner, Noah?"
"Ravioli!"
Relief! Now this I can do. I open the freezer. Fill a pot with water. Light the burner.
But what's happening over there? Noah's at his toy stove, fiddling with the wooden knobs and knocking a spoon and fork around in a wooden pot. Periodically squatting to have a look through the oven's windowpane.
"What are you doing, bud?"
"Cooking."
"What are you making?"
"Ravioli."
Saturday, January 9
What do you do with toys?
Make something cool.
What do you do after you make something cool?
Demolish it, while chanting "Noah's a wrecking ball!" Yesterday it was a block tower about a foot taller than its destroyer. Today it was a big plane, a small plane, another tower, and a train bridge. And his dad's knuckle, but that was an accident. Why would anyone put his finger in airspace that a solid wooden pot is about to fly through?
What do you do after you make something cool?
Demolish it, while chanting "Noah's a wrecking ball!" Yesterday it was a block tower about a foot taller than its destroyer. Today it was a big plane, a small plane, another tower, and a train bridge. And his dad's knuckle, but that was an accident. Why would anyone put his finger in airspace that a solid wooden pot is about to fly through?
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