Zombie-Pacino Ahoy, Cap'n!

Well, it's been yet another banner week for the little guy. First and foremost, on Saturday he decided that he had pretty much had enough of the whole crawling thing. So he pulled himself up and took off. At first, he only made it across the short dimension (I'm sure there's a really geeky physics/baby joke in there) of the living room, but by the afternoon he was going all over the house. It's pretty funny to see, all in all. Because he's new to the whole thing, he hasn't *quite* figured out the normal "walk". consequently, he does two things: one, he walks kind of bowlegged and with his arms up, so it looks like he's on the world's cutest forced march. Two, his right leg sometimes gets a tad overambitious, and goes waaaaaaaaay out in front of him. This, in turn, leads to him playing catch-up with the left leg. Combine that with my first point, and the result is the most adorable little shambling zombie you've ever seen.

Second, he's becoming more and more of a parrot. Every night when we put him to bed, I blow him kisses and wave goodnight. Saturday (I know, big day) he began blowing kisses back. Herein lies another subtle clue that he is definitely my son. The way he blows kisses is to splay his fingers open, cover his mouth, and then FLING his arm away from his face towards me while making a noise somewhat like...well...Al Pacino. Yeah, I think that's the closest thing I can liken it to-- if Al Pacino were to blow you a kiss, it would sound like this. Guttural, with a touch of the ol' classic "Hoo-ah" on the end. It's cute, and sometimes slightly menacing.

Lastly, (and I blame my wife for this) he has decided that the pinnacle of humor in his tiny baby universe is to hit himself in the forehead, Homer Simpson style. A tiny baby "D'oh!". He'll do it, chuckle, and then do it over and over, giggling maniacally. I'm telling you, the kid ain't right. He also thinks it's hilarious to smack US in the face, and the resulting dirty looks and "NO"s only fuel the fire.

So basically, he's either going to be a boxer or a slapstick comic. Either way, I'll be proud.

That is NOT an Egg.

I was in the garage the other night, sifting through some boxes, and I came across an incredibly old, dusty book. Turns out it was one of Charles Darwin's journals! Paging through one particular entry caught my eye, so I'm going to share it with you.

It seems that there is an insidious new creature lurking about our humble little home. I've never seen this creature, but I have seen copious evidence of its continued visits. I'm fairly certain it belongs in the Leporidae order; specifically, I believe it is a close cousin to the Bunnius Easterus. Since I believe I'm the first to observe this creature, I am going to classify it as Bunnius Poopus, or the "Turd Bunny".

I first suspected the existence of this creature about a fortnight ago; I was on my way out to the carriage house to remove our waste bins. Upon opening the door connecting the main house to the carriage house, I was greeted with a most curious sight-- a single diaper, wrapped up and placed in the middle of the mat we have there. One might understand my confusion; we do have a young child, but when I remove particularly offensive diapers from the house I am always careful to wrap them in an old paper bag before depositing in the afore mentioned carriage house bin. Yet strangely, this was not wrapped in a bag, nor was it near or in the bin. It was, however, particularly offensive.

With little thought, I discarded the item and carried out my task. I did not dwell on this occurrence, and in truth it escaped my mind until a few days later--when I found ANOTHER one, identical in every aspect to the first! One can imagine the shock. Since that time, I have noted that the appearance of these infernal little packages in my carriage house is occurring with increasing frequency. My wife relates that she has never had this happen to me, and thinks I may be a bit off. I've yet to catch the foul little beastie delivering his packages, but I have high hopes that the bear trap I have set will succeed.

Funny, I seem to have the same problem-- and Mom seems to be oblivious as well. Maybe only men can see this stuff. Hey, wait a
minute.....

Yet Another Use for Babies

Well, Christmastime is upon us once again. I'm demanding that last year's Christmas doesn't count, and that this one be recognized as Aidan's first one. It's only fair, really-- last year he was only a month old and didn't even speak English. This year...er, well, he still can't speak English, but at least he knows what's going on, even if he doesn't understand why there's a white, wire-framed reindeer in our front lawn covered in lights that looks like it's crippled at night because the back legs are out. But I digress.

Since 'tis the season, naturally there's been a good deal of shopping going on. And Aidan has proved himself invaluable for navigating the holiday minefield I call "the mall". Because he's naturally a chipper, sunshine covered little angel, he has two unique abilities that makes shopping much less painful than it otherwise might be. First of all, the kid is absolutely bulletproof when it comes to those annoying booth vendors in the middle of the mall. You know, the ones who claim to have special sea salt direct from Jesus' kitchen that can cure world hunger and give you soft skin at the same time if you'd only rub a bit of it on your hands sir please just stop a moment and marvel it makes a great gift and all at the low low cost of $39.95 but for you only $19.95 because I can see you're a nice person. In other words, the first people I would line up and shoot if I were ever in charge of a holiday revolution. Normally these people are attracted to me like a magnet, but when I have Aidan in his stroller (or better yet, am carrying him) they just smile and wave at him, never bothering to give me a second glance. I can walk in circles around them with $20 bills practically falling out of my pockets, and they never flinch. It's the closest thing I can imagine to being invisible. In short, it is pure awesome , and I wish I could bottle and sell it (if I ever do, it will be for $15.95 but that's the lowest I'll go and only because you seem like a nice person.)

The second ability he has is a little thing I like to call "being Moses." To understand, try this experiment: go find a child, preferably under 2 years old and preferably yours (although nieces, nephews, and cousins are also acceptable) and strap them into a stroller. Do whatever you need to in order to make them look simultaneously innocent and cute and maybe even a little sleepy. Then head to the mall. Find a big crown, or a long line, and approach the first woman you see who is facing away from you. Here's the only catch-- you need to jump-start this particular power by saying in an almost timid voice"Excuse me". No doubt they'll turn around with a look of utter loathing on their face, because they've probably been in line or in this crowd almost as long as the child you have with you has been alive, and they're sure as hell not going to give any ground to a sniveling little punk like...oh, look at the little angel! Yeah, that's right. BOO-YAH, on comes the kid's charm. And the crowd parts like the Red Sea...that woman will move, and likely tap, grab, or verbally alert the next nearest person that you have a stroller with an adorable little kid in it and need to get through. I know, I know, you don't believe me, but it's true and it WORKS.

So remember, you heard it here first-- this year's hottest Christmas accessory is my son in a stroller.