High Plains Panhandler

Pee Free

In a fit of three-year-old nature hunger, Alex decided to eat an unripen pecan dropped from one of the pecan trees in the backyard. The problem though was that this particular pecan still had its thick black cocoon shell around it (this is different that the normal brown pecan shell - pecans shed this black shell when they've finally ripened and are ready to be plucked or drop from a tree). That didn't stop Alex from chomping down, and it left him with a mouthful of grimy shell fragments.

The taste didn't suit him, so I took him inside and washed out his mouth with a few quick cupped handfuls of water. Unfortunately, my aim wasn't so true so as I rinsed his mouth I soaked his shirt and pants. No problem, I thought. Since I was going to throw him in the bath in another ten minutes, I simply stripped him down to nothing and set him scurrying on his way.

So much for my foresight. Alex ran to the back yard where Colleen and Megan were playing on the swingset. Then he proudly announced:

"I'm nudie! I can pee in the grass!"

This is when Colleen and Megan showed their sibling spirit and chanted:

"Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!"

So he did. Several times.

Suzanne showed up from the rose garden at the side of the house and quickly chastised Alex (I would have been responsible and done so, but it's tough to be serious when you're secretly laughing pretty hard). Suzanne told Alex if he was going to pee, he should go over by the fence and move out of the way of everyone. He went to the fence, put his arm against it, and put his head against his arm, concentrating. It looked as if he were suffering from a cherry-lime slush induced brain freeze.

To his credit, he squeezed out a little more. We don't know where he hides it all. He must have magical powers to summon pee upon command. It makes for very challenging potty training sessions.

If only he could magically make his room clean itself upon command. Now that would be something.

The Track Meet

It's been pretty gruesome at work these past few weeks. Too much work and too little sleep makes for poorly written stories. So I took a little break and I apologize to my legions of fans whose membership consists of the following: Karen my sister-in-law.

Today is track meet day. Both Megan and Colleen are on separate track teams, which means that they have separate track meets miles from each other, both running at the same time. Right now I'm at Colleen's meet, sitting in the shade, looking nerdy with my Powerbook, while I wait for the second grade girls to take the field (these meets are arduous - one team runs for a few minutes and then waits around for about half an hour until they run again. It's party time for the track teams because all they do is roll around and knock each other on the heads. It's snoozville for the adults, although there are some parents around here that deserve a knock on the head).

Last week at Megan's track meet a little boy named Darius (who is Megan's coach's kid) kept hovering around Alex and me while we watched the meet from our Cahill's Pub inflatable pillow blanket (Suzanne was at Colleen's track meet). Alex had a couple of pine cones that he had found on the grass, so Darius took one and started crushing it with his finger.

"Don't do that, Darius," I said. "You know the old saying. Crush a pine cone and you'll get a crack in your head."
"Nuh uh," he said, still crushing it.
"I'm not kidding," I said. "I can see the crack starting now."
"That's nothing," he said. "Look at this." And he pulled the back of his shirt up to show us a three inch long red gash in the middle of his back. "My daddy hit me with the keys.

That's the thing about these track meets and soccer games and birthday parties. You see all sorts of different parents, some of whom should have never gotten the official license to change diapers.

Here is the quote of the day from a guy standing next to me (this quote is inspired by a very close race between three kids): "This is gonna be a close one. It's gonna be a foot race to the end."

Sigh.

Click here to see the track meet video (9 meg)

Rogue Alex

Alex disappeared yesterday for a little while. I was mowing the front yard when Suzanne came out and asked if Alex was with me, but he wasn't. When I mow, I leave the garage door open so I can dash in and out for things I usually forget. This time, though, the big garage door was open and so was the door to the house, which meant that Alex probably strolled out into the garage, out into the driveway, and then out into the big wide world. For a three-year-old, that can be pretty scary.

So we searched through the house, shouting out his name louder and louder every few steps. This nice thing about our house is that it's great for hide-and-seek. The bad thing is that the kids know it. Alex, that little stinker, could have been hiding anywhere. What we didn't understand was why he didn't answer.

I took a quick look around the street to see if he was investigating the neighbor's dogs or hiding in the bamboo next to the house, but I had no luck.

Suzanne finally found him. In the garage, she peered through the van's windows and there he was, in the back behind the back seat (the van has a recessed area, like a little well, in the back where the back seat folds when you need more space). She raised the van's back hatch, and there he was, lying on his back, chewing gum and surrounded by Trident gum wrappers.

"Hello!" he said, Trident juice running down his chin.

So you feel angry, frustrated, and relieved all at the same time, but then you suddenly realize that there's a new secret hideout that you haven't known about before.

Now when Alex breaks out the tambourine and squeeze box, when Colleen has her eight-year-old "They're all bothering me!" meltdowns, and when Megan starts up her family room gymnastics, I know there there's a little cubby hole in the back of a van with my name on it, complete with a stack of sugar-free gum.

April Fools

I was ready this year, ready for the tricky onslaught that comes with April first. Even though I should know better, every year I get fooled.

This year Suzanne double-tricked me. I was on my toes, ready for action, when she told me that she wasn't going to try and fool me this year, since she figured I was ready for it. Instead, she made a great family breakfast of . . .

Spaghetti, meat sauce, green beans, and french bread.

Fooled again! This year, instead of tricks, we had backward meal day. We started breakfast with spaghetti and ended the day with cereal Actually, when you have spaghetti for breakfast, it sticks with you throughout the day. So for lunch (we usually have a kid-free lunch on Mom's Day Out Thursdays) we decided on a little sushi, since we were full from breakfast.

We went to a small restaurant, seven tables or so, called Bangkok/Tokyo that, a while ago, we had discovered had the best sushi in town. We got there right at lunch and, except for us and one other person, the place was empty. The sushi bar didn't have sushi in it. Instead it was covered with a long red tablecloth and plastic flowers.

The matron of the restaurant, a squat intense Thai woman, came up to our table and demanded our order. We told her were just wanted sushi, and then she explained that the sushi chef had left on vacation and would be gone for a month or two months until his money ran out. Then he'd be back.

"We'll survive!" she declared. "We'll survive without sushi. I can make you monkey balls. How about a nice California roll?"

Well, by then you feel obligated to stay, since you've already burned 15 minutes of lunch getting settled and getting your drink. I got the noodle special and Suzanne ordered the curry chicken, which had all the heat of a nuclear fuel rod. She took a small bite and when she was done sweating, she pushed the bowl away. The Bangkok/Tokyo matron didn't like that at all.

"Hot?" she said.
"Too hot," said Suzanne.
"Thai food supposed to be hot," she said and then stormed off to the back room where she started the industrial dishwasher that serenaded us with its gushing and roaring for the rest of our meal.

Besides the sushi April Fools, I got off pretty easily. At the end of the day I turned on the water in the bathroom and a jet of water shot out to the side. Someone had sneakily taped the faucet shut, and when I lined up the usual suspects, Megan immediately told me that I had better go wash my hands. Then she giggled fiendishly

She's her mommy's girl.