Monthly Archives: December 2013
Like the end of every workday, the kids hear me bring my bike down the backstairs to store overnight in the basement.
Kids: “Yippie Dadoo’s home!”
Tiern and Little Miss run to the door to greet me.
Dadoo: “Hello everyone!” Then I say funny hellos to Dood Locka, making him burst with cooing chuckles.
Tiern: Interrupting the merrymaking with Dood Locka, “Can I ride you like a horsy?”
Little Miss: “Can I go on your head?”
Tiern: “Com’on Dadoo, we want to ride you like a horse.”
Dadoo: “How bout you both ride me to the dinner table?”
I get on all fours to let them mount me.
Tiern: “Heeyaw, Heeyaw.” He whips me with his snot rag (of course I’m on the slow side).
Ah, the joys of fatherhood…
The common cold has nipped our family for the first time this season. Tiern, our contagion sentinal, felt his symptoms developing Christmas evening. Then, as viral buggers usually do, they jump to others (Little Miss and Dood Locka).
Little Miss: “I really like colds.”
Tiern: “No you don’t.”
Little Miss: “Yes I do!”
Tiern: “Nobody likes colds, they make you feel bad. Look at my red nose Miss (wiping his highly inflammed, crusty nostrils with his snot rag). It hurts!”
Little Miss: “Well, colds make me feel good.”
Dadoo: “Why do you like colds Miss?
Little Miss: “Cuz we get cough drops when we get colds.”
Video: Tiern and Little Miss learn how fun it is to stimulate the giggles out of Dood Locka.
Mama asked me what I would like for Supper on Christmas Day. I requested Pho. And, Pho it was. Not a traditional Americana Christmas meal, by any stretch of the imagination, but a favorite of mine, nonetheless. She also bought a turkey (as an possible last minute alternate). So on the 4th Day of Christmas (Feast of The Holy Innocents), we cooked it.
Hooray for 4th Day of Christmas Turkey!
Looks appetizing on the outside, let’s see how it tastes on the inside.
By happenstance, I was invited on the 2nd Day of Christmas to the best Pho place in town (for the first time). I think Mama’s version of Pho is pretty darn close to the real deal.
Photo: Morning of the 25th.
I don’t know if any other families are like us, but we break things in our household at a freakish pace (new things are especially prone to this phenomenon). I was talking to my Dad a few days ago, and he shared my sentiment because he remembered a similar phenomenon when my siblings and I were young. Maybe our family has a genetic propensity for destroying undamaged goods. My Dad said when he would find something broken laying on the floor, he posed the question:
Dad: “How did this break?”
Kids: “We don’t know!”
Dad: “Somebody must know something about this?”
Kids: “We really don’t.”
Dad: “I knew it! Mr. Nobody strikes again!”
Mr. Nobody the scapegoat has moved on, apparently to our house, but has take on a new form of destruction. Our kids admit to breaking stuff, but when I ask them why, they say they don’t know.
In our house: “Mr. I don’t know” strikes again!”