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Go Nigel, Go!
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Would You Like To Buy My Monkeys?
Mar
15
Four years ago today, Dave and I stood in front of the Mayor at City Hall and made our agreement to be joined for life legal. I was pregnant with Julia. I had been divorced from my first husband about a minute; Dave had been divorced about a minute and a half.
There were quite a few people who thought the whole getting married thing was a pretty bad idea.
When I think about how I felt that day, it reminds me of the final scene in the movie Say Anything. Lloyd and Diane are on a plane and she says, “Nobody thinks this will actually work, do they?”
Lloyd says, “No. You just described every success story.”
There’s something funny about love - it just doesn’t care about time. Finding it can take a minute or a lifetime, and once you’ve found it, the space in which it occurs can be completely distorted. I feel like I’ve known Dave forever. And I know this for sure: I never want to know life without him.
For our anniversary, I’m going to do something very “little girl in love.” I’m going to post song lyrics. It’s the song that will always, in my mind, tell our little story. Tracey Ullman did it first. Subterfuge’s version is my favorite. But this cover by Nailpin rocks pretty hard.
They Don’t Know* You’ve been around for such a long time now
Oh, maybe I could leave you but I don’t know how
And why should I be lonely every night
When I could be with you, oh yes you make it right
And I don’t listen to the guys who say
That you’re bad for me and I should turn you awayCause they don’t know ’bout us
They’ve never heard of loveI get a feeling when I look at you
Wherever you go now I wanna be there too
They say we’re crazy but I just don’t care
And if they keep on talkin’, still they get nowhere
So I don’t mind if they don’t understand
When I look at you and you hold my handCause they don’t know ’bout us
They’ve never heard of loveWhy should it matter to us if they don’t approve
We should just take our chances while we’ve got nothin’ to loseThere’s no need for living in the past
Now I’ve found a love, I’m gonna make it last
I tell the others don’t bother me
Cause when they look at you they don’t see what I see
No I don’t listen to their wasted lines
Got my eyes wide open and I see the signsCause they don’t know ’bout us
They’ve never heard of loveNo I don’t listen to their wasted lines
Got my eyes wide open and I see the signsCause they don’t know ’bout us
They’ve never heard of love
Mar
4
On Why Our Marriage Works
by Leslie
Some people say that there is a child living inside each of us; psychologists refer to this childlike aspect of our personality as our inner child.
My husband’s inner child is about twelve years old. I know this because he has a special sort of radar, which is activated in every boy upon the onset of puberty, that enables them to pick up on every word with even the slightest potential for crude or sexual meaning.
Here are a few examples of the radar in action.
I say: “You know, that was a difficult time in my life. It was really hard on me.
Dave says: “You said hard on.”
I say: “He felt like it was his duty to carry it out.”
Dave says: “You said doody.”
I say: “That’s on oldie, but goodie!”
Dave says: “You said butt goodie.”
I always laugh along with him, because honestly? It’s funny. But, it’s always been his thing.
Then, the other night, Dave was in a bit of a funk. There was no specific reason, he was just having a case of the blahs. I was trying everything I knew to snap him out of it. Finally, I decided we needed to get out of the house and convinced him that Lucy was demanding ice cream. We loaded Julia up in the car and took off. With cones in hand on the way home, he started to open up. We talked a bit and I summed our conversation up with a, “Yes, I think the weather has a lot to do with it. It’s been a hard winter.”
Dave replied, “It hasn’t been so hard as it’s been long.”
I glanced over at him, gripping the wheel with a tense look on his face. I took my chance and said, “You said hard and long.”
There was silence. The words he had begun to speak caught in his throat. His mouth was open a bit and his eyes were wide. I think I may have heard a siren going off in his head. Then, the corners of his mouth began to turn up. “Ummm, yeah. I did,” he said smiling.
We looked at each other and giggled. “See? I can throw you a curve ball now and then,” I said.
“Heh heh. You said ball.”
And he was back.
Schedule a play date for your inner children.
Feb
28
Ever since her date with Daddy at the library a few weeks ago, Julia has been singing “Build Me Up Buttercup,” a song from a CD they borrowed together that day.
I finally caught one of her performances on video. It’s one minute and forty four seconds you won’t regret watching. Especially around 0:53.
Feb
26
It’s amazing, what a parent will do for their child. I’ve heard many parents say that they would give their life - they would die - for their children. But what about murder? Would they kill for their child?
I know my personal answer to that question. You see, I took a life. For the happiness of my little girl.
It was Valentine’s Day, the day we chose to honor Julia’s incessent plea for an aquatic vertebrate of her very own to love. Dave and I believed we were being smart. We felt wise for forgoing the usual stuffed animals and candy, and introducing our daughter to the world of responsibility through fish ownership and aquarium maintenance. We congratulated ourselves during the trip to the pet store. We were awesome parents. Truly, the best ever.
We arrived at the store on a high. Who was better than us, huh? We spoke to the manager regarding our needs. No, this wasn’t going to be some Beta fish in a bowl. Nah, the tiny tank wouldn’t do. We had plans, not for one piddly fish, but for a few. We were very serious. So, the man showed us his best deal - a 20 gallon tank with it’s own stand, a filter, a heater, a light, a net, gravel, plastic plants, a super-cool rock and lots of bottles of chemicals. The price was quite reasonable, so we accepted the offer. Now, all we needed to know was how many fish can we put in that tank? One inch of fish per gallon of the tank you say? Cool. Let’s start with five fish. And we set off to pick them out.
We were three into our five fish choices when an awkward pet store associate with glasses, pimples and a squeaky voice began asking us questions about our tank. Two dreaded responses later we heard the news, “You know, you really should have your tank up and running for a week or so before you introduce any fish. Otherwise, they’re probably going to die.”
Dave and I stood there while our swollen heads deflated. We exchanged concerned glances, then gazed upon our child. She was on her knees, hands against a tank, speaking softly to “Fridgie” the pink fish she’d already chosen.
“You’re coming home with me, Fridgie. You’ll live at my house and I’m going to take care of you. ‘Cause I love you,” she cooed.
It was then that the manager approached. He put a hand on each of our shoulders and said in a hushed voice, “Listen, just pick one today. Take it home, start up your tank and put it in. Just having the fish in there, eating and, you know, pooping, will help get the tank ready for more fish. The fish, well, it probably won’t make it too long, but we guarantee our fish. If it dies, bring in the body with your receipt and we’ll replace it. Maybe she won’t even know. You’re always going to lose some fish anyway.” He gave us each a pat and said, “I’ll meet you at the register.”
Julia stood up and turned around and asked, “Can we take my fish home now?”
My heart began to race. My palms were sweaty. I found it hard to catch my breath. I knew what I had to do. I shook my head yes. She squealed and bounced. I turned to Dave and said, “There’s no way we can leave here without a fish, David. We have to do it.”
He hung his head. “I know.”
So, Fridgie was pulled from his harmonious home and stuffed in a bag to begin the journey toward his demise. Dave and I chastised ourselves on the ride home while I held Fridgie, our sacrificial fish, in my lap and Julia sang songs about him from the back seat. We weren’t awesome parents. Unless awesome parents have fish blood on their hands. We were not the best parents ever. We were fish killers.
Then, about five miles from home, the tone in the car changed. I’m not sure if it was me or Dave who first suggested that Fridgie was a particularly special fish and maybe, just maybe, he’d win against the odds. Yes. We had decided. Fridgie was a trooper. He was going to make it. Everything would be alright. Fridgie would perservere.
We arrived home and set up our tank with much fanfare and enthusiasm. We sang praises to Fridgie and agreed that he was indeed a fine fish. I disposed of our receipt for his purchase, just to show my confidence in him. There’d be no returning his limp, dead body for a cash refund; Fridgie was going to make it. We just knew it.
Four days later, Fridgie went belly up.
As I sat crying, feeling, for the first time, the full weight of my murderous choice, Julia approached. She asked, “What’s wrong, Mommy?”
“Well, honey,” I sniffed, “It’s Fridgie. He died.”
“Oh…well, that’s okay Mom. Sometimes fish die.”
I stared at her in disbelief.
“We can get another fish, Mom. You don’t need to cry. There are more at the pet store.”
So, yeah. Would I kill for my child? I guess I already did, even when I didn’t have to. I killed Fridgie. Would I do it all over again? Nope. Not at all. I’m not a total idiot. Just kind of one.
Feb
14
Dave and I were heading out the door to the car when he stopped me and put a tiny flashlight in my hand. “This is for you,” he said, “so you can see when it’s dark.”
It was a Big moment - not as in large, but the Tom Hanks movie, and the specific moment being when 12 year-old Josh in the grown-up body gives Susan the glow-in-the-dark compass ring, so she won’t get lost.
Jan
16
You Gotta Love ‘Em
by Leslie
Jan
10
Magic From The Hand*
by Leslie
Julia drew a picture of her Daddy, shown below on the left. (The things floating near his head are “happy balloons.” And that prominent area in his mid-section? His “happy belly button.”)
I’ve juxtaposed an actual photograph of Dave, along with the artist herself, for the purpose of comparison. What do you think?
I think it’s a pretty good drawing. It does resemble her Daddy.
Or Chet from Weird Science after he gets turned into a pile of poo.
Not that I’m saying Dave looks like poo.
It’s more the shape of the body in the drawing that brought Chet the poo pile to mind.
Dave looks quite different from poo.
Don’t tell him I said he looked like poo, okay?
*Lyric from Weird Science by Oingo Boingo
Jan
9
The Physics Of Sex
by Leslie
The act of sex effects Dave and I differently. He is drained, while I am energized.
That observation got us thinking and talking about the transfer of energy.
The Law of Conservaton of Energy states that energy is neither created or destroyed, it only changes form. Work is one of the ways energy can be transferred. The amount of work done is the same as the amount of energy transferred.
Dave believes this validates his claim that he is the superior sexual force and should, therefore, be declared the undisputed and eternal Champion of Sex in our relationship.
Then I reminded him of the First Law of Thermodynamics which basically suggests that if you add heat to a system, there are only two things that can be done - change the internal energy of the system or cause the system to do work. I suggested that I bring the heat that makes him do the work and that I should, therefore, be declared the undisputed and eternal Champion of Sex in our relationship.
We finally agreed that we would tie for the title of Champion of Dorkdom. We don’t know jack about physics anyway. So, we just had sex.
The end.
Jan
7
Like me. Except I’m a girl.
I’m lucky to be married to the best friend I’ve ever had. And today is his birthday. This is for him. (And yeah, it’s a video because that’s what I do.)
Happy Birthday, David. I sure am glad you were born.
Dec
18
After a month of planning and anticipation, the day finally arrived. The Playgroup Chrstmas Party. Julia and I have been so excited about hosting this event. And I’m telling you people, it was AWESOME. We have the best playgroup in all the land. Seriously. You so want to be in our playgroup.
I made and served my standard Santa cupcakes, among other delicious things.
I stacked those edible Santa heads on tiers and surrounded them by cute little keepsake Christmas characters like this -
- each displaying the face of a playgroup member.
I had also made a video slideshow of our playgroup from the past year and put it on DVD as a gift to each of the parents. We viewed it after everyone arrived. Then, the kids played until a special visitor arrived.
I don’t know about you, but I think that’s the hottest Santa I’ve ever seen.
Throughout the chaos, I was able to grab a tiny bit of video. There’s a 20 second snippet of my very hot husband Santa in action here.
I wish I had caught the kid’s reaction when he first came through the door. It was priceless. I’ll never forget Julia and her friends jumping around and shouting, “It’s Santa! It’s Santa!”
We had worried a little bit that Julia might recognize her Daddy through the costume - she’s not easily fooled. But we knew all was well when, after Santa left, Julia told me, “I wish Daddy could have seen Santa!”
Once the big man had left the building, the kids exchanged gifts, which was glorious because the presents were so very thoughtful and appropriate. Every child was gracious and happy, and incredibly willing to share their new toys. I’m telling you - we have the best playgroup in the world. And that’s the best Christmas present I could ever receive - a home full of friends. And maybe seeing Dave in a Santa suit.
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I Write A Haiku Each Day
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Categories
- Daily Haiku
- Mommy’s Stuff
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You Should Do This
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Ooooooh. Aaaaah.
