Example: "Scrat loves his squirrel coconut."Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
Inheritance: sense of humor
Gracie has decided that she wants a betta fish. I don't know where this current obsession came from, but she asks about it frequently.
This weekend, the conversation in the van went like this:
Gracie: Can we get a betta?
Me: No.
Gracie: Why not?
Me: Because it's something else we'll have to keep up with, and it's something else for you to cry over when it dies.
Gracie: How long do they live?
Me: I dunno. Two or three years, maybe?
Gracie: So it'll be a while before it dies, and I won't cry.
Me: Except that you're not taking into account Colin dropping a radio into the bowl.
Gracie: Colin's not going to turn them into fish sticks.
She's already developing a dark sense of humor, and she's only nine. She comes by it honestly. Just last week, when her mother was stressing over starting with a new workgroup, Gracie suggested that, if the new group gives Amanda any trouble, she should simply "Punch them in their grill," complete with mimicked illustration. I have no idea where she got that.
This weekend, the conversation in the van went like this:
Gracie: Can we get a betta?
Me: No.
Gracie: Why not?
Me: Because it's something else we'll have to keep up with, and it's something else for you to cry over when it dies.
Gracie: How long do they live?
Me: I dunno. Two or three years, maybe?
Gracie: So it'll be a while before it dies, and I won't cry.
Me: Except that you're not taking into account Colin dropping a radio into the bowl.
Gracie: Colin's not going to turn them into fish sticks.
She's already developing a dark sense of humor, and she's only nine. She comes by it honestly. Just last week, when her mother was stressing over starting with a new workgroup, Gracie suggested that, if the new group gives Amanda any trouble, she should simply "Punch them in their grill," complete with mimicked illustration. I have no idea where she got that.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Monday, November 12, 2007
Remembrance
It's a day late , but yesterday was both busy and not one of my better days.
In keeping with the point of the holiday, I reflected on the lives of two men close to my heart - my grandfathers, both of whom served in the U.S. Navy in the Pacific theater during World War II.
My paternal grandfather served on board the USS Pennsylvania, dreadnought flagship of the Pacific Fleet, leaving behind his wife and infant son (my uncle) to pay his dues to his country. He was proud of his service, and I remember growing up that he always kept a model of his ship built by one of my cousins on a shelf in his dining room. At his funeral, one of his brothers, also Navy, saluted him as he lay in state in between a Knights of Columbus honor guard, and the scene broke my heart.
I have his Bluejacket's Manual at home, kept carefully among my other WWII memorabilia. Jim, I'm honored to be your grandson, and I miss you. See you when the time comes, Granddaddy.
My maternal grandfather was a 16-year-old kid from a rough background who decided he'd join up after the attack on Pearl Harbor. He lied about his age to get in, and was assigned to a destroyer, the USS Abner Read, which was sent to the Pacific to fight the Japanese. The Japanese sunk his beloved ship when a kamikaze pilot dropped a bomb down one of her stacks and the plane came down athwartships. My grandfather's closest shipmate credited him with saving his life while they waited for rescue, and that man's family forever held my grandfather in the highest of esteem for this act. My grandfather looked back on those days of service with the greatest of pride, and I believe he felt at home during those years like never before or after, until he found his place in the world again in Colorado.
He was cremated after his death and his ashes were spread in his beloved Colorado. His flag rests upon my mantle next to a wartime photograph in which he's in uniform, grinning ear-to-ear like the schoolboy he was. My own memory of that same grin is most clear when, not too long before his death, he watched my daughters play in my mother's yard. They were running back and forth to him as he sat in a lawn chair, and the occasional tear trickled down his face as he watched them. Ken, I'm honored to be your grandson, and I miss you. See you when the time comes, Pappaw.
Thank you both for your service and the families you started on your return.
Thank you to the men who fought alongside you who did not come home - their sacrifices will not be forgotten, not by me or my children or my grandchildren.
And thank all of you who have served, and especially those who are serving now in some far corner of the world, far from home. God bless you, and take care of yourselves.
In keeping with the point of the holiday, I reflected on the lives of two men close to my heart - my grandfathers, both of whom served in the U.S. Navy in the Pacific theater during World War II.
My paternal grandfather served on board the USS Pennsylvania, dreadnought flagship of the Pacific Fleet, leaving behind his wife and infant son (my uncle) to pay his dues to his country. He was proud of his service, and I remember growing up that he always kept a model of his ship built by one of my cousins on a shelf in his dining room. At his funeral, one of his brothers, also Navy, saluted him as he lay in state in between a Knights of Columbus honor guard, and the scene broke my heart.
I have his Bluejacket's Manual at home, kept carefully among my other WWII memorabilia. Jim, I'm honored to be your grandson, and I miss you. See you when the time comes, Granddaddy.
My maternal grandfather was a 16-year-old kid from a rough background who decided he'd join up after the attack on Pearl Harbor. He lied about his age to get in, and was assigned to a destroyer, the USS Abner Read, which was sent to the Pacific to fight the Japanese. The Japanese sunk his beloved ship when a kamikaze pilot dropped a bomb down one of her stacks and the plane came down athwartships. My grandfather's closest shipmate credited him with saving his life while they waited for rescue, and that man's family forever held my grandfather in the highest of esteem for this act. My grandfather looked back on those days of service with the greatest of pride, and I believe he felt at home during those years like never before or after, until he found his place in the world again in Colorado.
He was cremated after his death and his ashes were spread in his beloved Colorado. His flag rests upon my mantle next to a wartime photograph in which he's in uniform, grinning ear-to-ear like the schoolboy he was. My own memory of that same grin is most clear when, not too long before his death, he watched my daughters play in my mother's yard. They were running back and forth to him as he sat in a lawn chair, and the occasional tear trickled down his face as he watched them. Ken, I'm honored to be your grandson, and I miss you. See you when the time comes, Pappaw.
Thank you both for your service and the families you started on your return.
Thank you to the men who fought alongside you who did not come home - their sacrifices will not be forgotten, not by me or my children or my grandchildren.
And thank all of you who have served, and especially those who are serving now in some far corner of the world, far from home. God bless you, and take care of yourselves.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Happy Birthday, Fuzzy!
This is my Fuzzy, the brightest of the stars in my life. She's given me my three beautiful babies and the best seventeen years of my meagre existence. She's stuck by me through the lowest points, too, and was the rock I clung to and the reason I pulled myself up and trudged forward.
Thanks to her, I'm a better man that I could ever have hoped to be, and I've been blessed far beyond what I deserve.
Happy birthday, Fuzzy. I hope to make you as happy as you've made me.
P.S. Sorry for the crappy picture quality. Cell phone cameras suck!
Monday, October 15, 2007
Nananudis
Amanda and I are watching the Titans play poorly yesterday when the boy wanders in. "Ina watch nananudis," quoth he.
Eyebrows raised, Amanda asked him to repeat. "Ina watch nananudis."
The call went out for the translator - "Gracie! C'mere and tell me what he wants, please."
"Ina watch nananudis." More raised eyebrows.
"I have no idea," Gracie said, grinning in amused bewilderment.
And then little Sarah, who had followed Gracie into the room, informs us in a tone of voice that suggests we're all retarded: "He wants to watch Milo and Otis."
Ah. Of course; how unintuitive of us.
Eyebrows raised, Amanda asked him to repeat. "Ina watch nananudis."
The call went out for the translator - "Gracie! C'mere and tell me what he wants, please."
"Ina watch nananudis." More raised eyebrows.
"I have no idea," Gracie said, grinning in amused bewilderment.
And then little Sarah, who had followed Gracie into the room, informs us in a tone of voice that suggests we're all retarded: "He wants to watch Milo and Otis."
Ah. Of course; how unintuitive of us.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Sarah sends her regards
Little Bitty had an owie, and went to the doctor to get it fixed. She had been running around showing everybody her finger in the same manner as depicted, and I just had to get a picture. Unfortunately, the camera in my phone leaves a bit to be desired, and I had to fiddle with it. Bitty got impatient; hence, the expression.
Incidentally, this is precisely the same expression I expect to see when she's informing someone that they're Number One.