Well, I suppose I have to post something in January...

I know, I know... I haven't posted anything since Christmas Eve. There are a few reasons behind this, but suffice it to say that I really wish that I could go one lousy week of 2009 without Me, Silverfox or the boys having surgery, being sick, needing a doctors visit, a dentist visit, or going to physical therapy.

Seriously. I could have counted the number of hospital visits I had taken in my ENTIRE LIFE on one hand before I met Silverfox... but if you count trips to the pediatrician, I have had no less than 37 visits to hospitals, doctors, and dentists in the past 5 months Silverfox and I have been enjoying marital bliss. At least ten of these have involved something that places some kind of restriction on our love life, so I'm just a little testy about it at this point.

Fortunately for Y'all, I didn't decide to post today to talk about my sex life or lack thereof... I instead am going to make this post about the kids.

Pint Size Cute Story #1:

Pint Size is officially walking. Well, maybe a more appropriate term would be toddling... in any case, he will start out at my recliner, throw his hands up in the air, and bolt all the way to the door. When he gets there, he calmly turns around and runs back... it's just freaking adorable.

Short Stuff cute story #1:

It always amazes me when the boys pick up one of my mannerisms, particularly ones that I got from my Dad.

The other day, Short Stuff was trying to get Pint Size up the stairs to their bedroom because it was bedtime. This basically involves him following his brother up the stairs, into the bedroom, and securing the child gate behind him. Short Stuff is then free to Play a video game or watch some TV before lights out. He had just gotten a new Video game the other day for getting on the honor roll, and was anxious to try it.

Pint Size was not cooperating, and taking his time getting up the stairs. Short Stuff attempted to speed up the process by saying in a stern voice "Come on (Pint Size)! I'm bigger than you are. that makes me the boss of you. Now go upstairs!"

Pint Size thought this was hysterical, and started to laugh at his older brother.

Then Short Stuff says "This isn't funny. Look at my face. Do I LOOK like I'm joking?" in the same tone of voice my Dad has said it to me since I was two years old.

I couldn't help but smile.

Pint Size Cute Story #2:

Pint Size it seems, has a serious case of recliner envy. If I lean forward on my recliner/rocker to say, nail the guitar solo for "Call Me" on Rock Band, Pint Size climbs onto the chair with me, squirms behind my back and proceeds to try to force me off the recliner with his feet. I usually just pick him up and bounce him on my knee for a bit when I'm done and send him on his way.

Lately though he's developed a new, more annoying habit... if I get up for anything, he climbs into the chair and sprawls, claiming it for his own. When I try to get him to move, he just grins at me with a smile that says "move your feet, loose your seat, dude..."

Short Stuff Cute Story #2

Short Stuff is rapidly discovering how to construct a good joke. It's been a little touch and go for him in this endeavor, and that's partially my fault. The first joke I told him was "What's Black and White and has sixteen wheels? A Zebra on roller skates".

He then surmised that the secret to "funny" was "what's (insert color) and (insert second color) and has (random number) wheels? A (insert animal) on (insert something with wheels)"

The results were... less than funny. I explained that he could just repeat the original joke, and most people that hadn't heard it before would laugh... and told him a few elephant jokes to increase his joke library. He would still try the occasional original joke (now about elephants) but again, the results were not very funny.

About a week later, he asked me what makes a joke funny. We then talked for a bit about what actually makes a joke work, how elephant jokes work because of the image they create in your mind, and what a punchline was. As I dropped him off at school that morning, he looked deep in thought about it.

A few days later, he says "Dad, I have a joke for you." I braced myself, inwardly promising that I would smile politely no matter how bad it was. "What did the teddy bear say after dinner?" He said smiling, "I'm Stuffed!". It was a great joke! I couldn't help but laugh at it!

"Was it funny?" Short Stuff asked with concern. I assured him it was. "Good!" He smiled broadly, "I got another one for you. How did the Tortoise beat the Hare? With boxing gloves!"

At this rate, it won't be long before I start a joke blog called "Puppies of Atlantis".