A lion in autumn

An e-mail I recently received from Buy.com asked the deceptively simple question, "What will you be this Halloween?"

That quandary was immediately and permanently addressed within the body of that very e-mail, in the form of a timeless treasure buried beneath a pile of boring, foolish, or even mildly ridiculous costumes: "A Sexy Wizard of Oz Cowardly Lion!"

Just in case one did not immediately grasp the magic inherent in those words, they included a siren song for the eyes:

Seems astonishingly obvious once you hear it and see it laid out like this, doesn't it? I mean, right here you have the very heart* of the film if not of the original book series itself! The whole narrative, this fictional universe, it all begins to collapse without the hefty weight of the Cowardly Lion's sex appeal anchoring it all --unspoken, undescribed, unobserved... possibly nonexistent-- and yet I'll bet you never once thought of it before now. Genius. Just genius.

Now, granted, the "sexiness" of this particular creation is highly dependent on the nature of the clay used to craft it, but I'm pretty confident I have the body to pull it off. The only real stumbling block to my undisputed ownership of this and all future Halloweens is the fact that it's currently on sale for $77.

I may have to let some pretender claim my throne, for that price. Or else, hmmmm... what would one of those craft bloggers do?

I'm off to find where I left my tan Spanx bodysuit and faux-fur boots 'n' muff!

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* Tin Woodman be damned. Again.

A conversation between M- and D-: Truth and Consequences

I'm not sure that there's a lesson to be found here in this conversation between my 7-year-old son D- and my 4-year-old daughter M- as they got ready for bed recently, but it is what it is, and I swear this really happened:

Me (to D-, who's given to sleeping shirtless solely to save himself seconds of time in the evenings and mornings): Get a shirt on, or you'll be sorry-- this morning you were huddled up in a freezing ball again.

M- (gleefully butting in): He should have "CONsequences", Dad!

D- (seeming to have temporarily forgotten his deep familiarity with this word): What?

M- (in a rational, expository tone, with only a slight hint of smugness toward the end): Consequences-- you have to sleep with no shirt, and you're very cold. That's "consequences" of what you did.

D-: BANG! Two socks in the face-- that's YOUR consequences!

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You may enjoy my previous M- conversations, D- conversations, and (wife) J- conversations.

Amusing searches, Vol. 12

Here are more of the most amusing searches that brought people here recently, this time all dealing with parenting concerns.

(All search strings are reprinted exactly as they were entered, and the search text links to the post at which the visitor arrived.)

• 10 yr old daughter likes to be naked (Toledo, OH) - You're in for a long couple of years, my friend. Good luck.

• I keep losing my patience with my 3 year old (Milton, Ontario) - That's because they're infuriating little bastards, just like you were when you were three. It's a charming part of our core to which we all return whenever we're feeling cranky, even in our golden years. You'll have your revenge!

• baby onesies that say my daddy is an obsessive bastard (Bradford, PA) - Hey... that hurts.

• help for the stay at home dad with the ungrateful wife (Palm Desert, CA) - I only wish I had some way of helping you, sir, but I've never been able to solve this particular problem for myself. Don't worry, though (face held dramatically in hand) I'll get along, somehow...

• I am at home and not busy (Kerava, Finland) - I am quite jealous and borderline homicidal.

• personal hygiene for kids (New Delhi, India) - I think it says it all that when you searched this term, it took you to a post about orangutans.

Things that amuse me, Vol. 3

Here, as the title might suggest, are a few of the things that have been amusing me lately:

1. They should print the tags of children's clothing in the front, so my kids might accidentally put some on properly one day.

2. This is a scrap I found from at least a year ago, about a Camry radio commercial I'm absolutely certain they're no longer running:

Totally Sincere "Customer" Voiceover (the culmination of a series of praises about the Camry's dependability and consistent reliability, including "It's good to know there are some things you can still count on"): "When I'm stressed out about something, I sneak out to the garage and look at the Camry, and I feel better."

Well, I have a Camry, myself, and let me tell you, much as I've always liked it [and still do!], this has never worked for me.

3. With the way he's been behaving lately, my 5-year-old son D- sitting up alone in his room playing his harmonica makes me picture him rotting in a cell singing, "No-booody knooooows, the trouble I've caused / No-booody knows but my-teacher-the-principal-the-bus-driver-my-parents-other-kids'-parents-my-grandparents-their-grandparents-and-just-about-everyone-ellllllllse".

4. I feel like I need to hang an announcement around my daughter's neck, to cover me in case of my untimely demise, that reads, "She dressed herself today."

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Cool deal for April! Magazine subscriptions on Amazon - 2 Years for the Price of 1

My ridiculous rhinestone bow 'tis of thee

I had another post scheduled to appear here today, but I decided to pull it in favor of this one, since you all probably will care even less about it in a week or so (I've set myself up nicely to take it easy for awhile).

I had to do some serious digging to find a few articles discussing our recent inauguration, but once I found some, I was most intrigued by this one regarding Aretha Franklin's choice of headgear --or should I say her headgear's choice of host-- when singing at the event:

Requests flood in for 'Queen of Soul's' custom hat

Really? Really.

Am I the only one who saw this hat? Granted, it may have been hard to see anything else in a ten-foot arc behind her, but I'm pretty sure all 3 billion people watching saw the same thing I did.

To refresh your memory, we're talking about the hat shown below:

"We even have a lot of men calling to get it for their wives, mothers and grandmothers," Song said.

Ahhhhh, there we go, there's the answer-- men are f***ing idiots. And I say this as one myself-- my own brand of obliviousness and occasional lack of common sense was issued at birth, have no doubt, but rest assured, Mom, Grandma, Katie, and J-, it absolutely does not extend to thinking that anyone I've ever met, or will ever meet, would want to own, borrow, or even-be-willing-when-forced-at-gunpoint-to-wear this hat.

Gonna be a long Returns line at Mr. Song's shop next week, methinks. That, plus a lot of very unhappy-looking invalid grandmothers being wheeled about town with necks ready to give way under the sheer weight of those bows.

Classic quotes, Vol. 5

I almost didn't make it to post today for the first time since mid-February, since I've been putting in some long hours working for my dad this week, but I'm here during a break with a quickie post as a declaration of victory* over my procrastination demons.

So without further ado, here are some more lines uttered by our family in recent days, extra heavy on the M-, just like you ordered:

M- (anytime someone sneezes): Bwessss youuu!

M- (anytime anyone expresses pain): Sorr-ree.

M- (anytime she or anyone else burps or causes a sound even remotely resembling flatulence): Scuse mee!!

M- (anytime anyone has food, while approaching with an open mouth): Biiiiite-it.

D-: Well... it's not doin' what I want it to do, so I hit it. (simple explanation for his Hulk-like rage and subsequent violence against his belt... while wearing it)

Me (whilst discussing each other's favorite clothes we hate-- my holey old shirt vs. a hideous pair of J-'s shoes): There's not that much difference between a nipple and a stupid glued-on plastic spangle [as clothing decoration].

M- (upon seeing a surfing penguin emerge from a potentially lethal wave during an otherwise quiet moment in the movie theater**): Haa-ha-HAA!!


* Only in this mere, minor skirmish, of course. The war will rage on till the day I die... if I get around to that.

** No, this isn't a really old quote-- we just went to a free kids' show of it this morning. Isn't free stuff wonderful? Especially when your kids can shout stuff at the screen and at times not even be heard over all the other .

She makes it look so easy

You know, as someone who at times works too hard to be funny, I have to admit that I feel more than a little bit jealous that someone like M-, my 16-month-old daughter, can just grab a random hat that's too big (or better yet, something that's not even a hat), put it on her head, then toddle out and say, "Ott!" (hat) to get big, well-deserved laughs all around.

For example:
I could write more, but I'm too busy playing Salieri to her Mozart. Perhaps I should just stop here, to imitate her minimalist style.

...

Is it working?

Damn.


* (see picture) In case you have the same jammies at your house and you're wondering if that is indeed an oversized zero-to-3-months-sized nightgown, the answer is yes, yes it is. To further spite the titans of the children's clothing industry, it also used to be D-'s. Three points for us!

The joy of caprice

As an antidote to yesterday's tirade, I will note that one plus of having a girl is that last season's pants become this season's capris, or at least they do when Daddy is in charge of her wardrobe. All you have to do is wait a couple extra months for them to cross the "I think she's grown out of those pants, sir" threshold into the "Oh my gosh, what adorable pants! I have to know where you got them!!" zone*.

Incidentally, both of these statements are likely to be met with identical shrugs from me at library time. While I appreciate a cute outfit as much as the next guy, I'd much rather buy an array of identical futuristic jumpsuits for each kid, and never have to spend another 10 minutes tracking down something to dress each one in that won't get me A) in trouble or B) on some kind of watch list down at Child Services.

Consequently, J- and our female friends and relatives are in charge of all children's clothing purchases, and I am merely the middle manager who issues them on most days.

In my defense, I'll say that if they're good enough for Catholic (and gang-combatting) schools, the inevitable future, and most low-paid workplaces, uniforms are good enough for our kids and the rest of society. Three cheers for The Unitard of Tomorrow!


* I never got into the latter zone when D- was younger. Without fail, pants would somehow change from looking fine to making me look like a mental defective once I got him to daycare. This was especially an issue with overalls, due to their devious ability of the straps to allow the pant cuffs to hang down to the feet even when the crotch was somewhere around their knees. Am I really expected to notice this fine detail when I'm in a rush to get to work?**

** I still occasionally have this problem with M-, as no one yet makes capri-style overalls. Yet.