So, perhaps I was a bit dramatic in assuming we/our house wouldn't survive the weekend and the sleepover. I will however say that several other parents read us our last rights and wanted to have our mental health checkups a bit early this year. Where to begin? Friday was a mad dash to get Luke's Christmas Tree rash seen about, Cookie Cake picked up(with some double doosies), Stay Puft sprung, then to where shopping is a pleasure to get snacks for the 8 AM soccer game the next day. All this went off brilliantly. We even had extra time to clean the house a bit and gather our nerves and devise a strategy to flank and out maneuver the warring hoard of 3rd graders.
Turns out they were all the most polite and well behaved children in the world. Dr. Toilet was the consummate host and was as well mannered and even keeled as any other child whose body had been snatch and replaced by some alien surrogate. This makes twice in one week that this alien has shirked off the responsibility of loudest, attention seeking little brother. I am consulting my star chart later to see which planets are aligned and when they will be again so that we can host a party in our home.
or in sombrero, El doctor senor toilet
The roving gang patrolled the neighborhood, swords in hand, looking for trouble. There was none to be found so they returned, had pizza, cookie cake and ice cream, and retired to the basement to enjoy a film. I have never heard such polite children. I almost feel bad for assuming they would burn my house to the ground after tying me up and throwing me down the stairs. I will say that prior to watching the movie they all had to take off their shirts. I don't remember this part of my childhood of topless male bonding but I don't doubt it happened. After they had finished their film, they went to bed and turned out the lights. This happened at say 9:45 or 10.
I immediately go to sleep.
Has there ever been a more frustrating game to lose to kids at?
Should I feel bad for not staying up? For not making sure they went to sleep? I do not feel guilt over this. Reports came back in the morning that soon after the lights went out, they came back on and board games were played until 2 in the morning. Good for them. A spirited round or two of Battleship never hurt anyone. (Unless you count veterans of WWII).
The hot light was on. Similar to a grail shaped beacon.
I was up at 6 and out the door to get doughnuts. Dropped them off and went to get Wilson for a soccer game. I got back as boys were being picked up around 10-12. A good time was had and then naps were taken. Brilliant Sleepover? Check!
Basically this without all that namby pamby protective gear
I wanted to put pen to paper before having to start my weekend.
There is quite a large possibility that I will not survive the night. Dr.
Toilet is having his birthday sleepover tonight. There will be an additional
4-5 3rd graders in my home this evening. The King of Commodes is pumped. Plans
have been made and discussed for weeks now. He conned me into making party
favors for all of the guests. Over the past week I have been busy creating 8
wooden swords. Say what you will about it being a terrible idea or that I will
have to explain broken bones to parents. He conned me. No silly puppy dog eyes
or pleases. No, he is good. He said and I quote, "most of the kids coming
over don't have dad's as awesome as you that will make them awesome swords like
you make for me." Flattery will get you everywhere. Plus, he called me
dad. That has been an ongoing saga. I am Padre and have been for some time. I
have been told that I can't be dad because I am not his real dad. I hope he
never realizes the power he has over me by calling me dad. It would be the ruin
of my house in the most Shakespearean of senses.
I miss my youth.
The plan is pizza,
cookie cake, ice cream, and a movie. This will be followed by staying up all
night in his room. I hope to beat everyone home and hide the baby monitor in
there so as to be able to relay the hilarity to you the reader. Swords will be
doled out in the morning along with doughnuts. Can I please just say, best
birthday ever? Sadly I will have to get up with the sun to go pick up son
number 1 from a friend’s house. (There is a child swap in effect as we are
trading a 5th grader for a 3rd for the night) He has a soccer game at 8 AM. I
will leave the supermodel at home with baby stay puft and the
party/gang/hoard.
The younger brother of one of my players. At least he plays as well.
As an aside I may
have recruited a younger brother of a player to help us this weekend. We may
get the ball to the other team’s side of the field. I hope to take 2 shots on
goal and limit them to fewer than 5 goals. Attainable goals people. I am also
in charge of snacks for the game on Saturday and I WILL bring enough for the
coach.
At some point,
having returned from soccer, I will disband the warring hoard and send them
(with their swords) home. I will then load my sons into the car and possibly
stay puft and take them to the football game where I work. The supermodel will
have a chance to rest and I get to show off my ab-fab kids who will be without
sleep and coming off of a sugar buzz. They should be a delight.
I digress. I would
like to leave the supermodel and my children to Stuben the Bearded as I trust
him to take care of my family and I never really liked him much. I would like to
leave June-Bug the hound to the wilds of Mississippi as disdain is the only
thing she ever really had for humanity. All earthly possessions will
have been destroyed by tomorrow morning so dividing up the bits shouldn't be
too hard for the Fire Marshall to sort out.
At least the supermodel comes to games to keep morale up
Our soccer team has our second game Saturday For those of you keeping up, I am only the coach because the team was so big it needed to be divided. Well Saturday the two headed monster fights itself. We scrimmage one another every Thursday night and I came home last night, not hopeful that we would win a game, ever but rather that maybe we might make a shot on goal. Not actually score but just get the ball close enough to try. My best players(the ones from Latin American countries) have been poached to play on a team at a higher age group. My goalie is too "southern" (big) to be able to move around in front of the goal and don't dare ask him to run or jump. Another player, while playing, walked over to me and told me, "Some of the kids at my school see soccer as something you just do in your extra time." I pointed out to him that while this was true, he was supposed to be our left fullback at that exact moment and that someone had just scored on the left side because he was explaining his thoughts on extra-curricular events to me and our keeper was on the right side of the goal and couldn't be bothered to scoot over.
The boys continue to have fun. That is the goal but at some point I would like to see the ball on the other end of the field. Maybe I just line them all up in front of the goal to keep the ball from going in and tie all our games.
first few tests of the boys extra-cirriculars have now passed. This is the first time since taking ownership of the boys that they have been able to do sports. I am the official team bus driver and our team bus is the new hotness.
Mr. Fabulous has been in training for weeks now to be the next world famous male gymnast. Who is the current world famous male gymnast you ask? Who knows. All I know is that Mr. Fabulous agreed to some activity and we are going to pursue it. He is best suited to Rugby, Lacrosse, or other pugalistic events but insisted that he not have to play a team sport. Lets just assume this is out of modesty and not wanting to make everyone else look bad.
other than the smoking this could totally be grown up
Mr. Fabulous.
Now I have no idea how anything works at a gymnastics gym. I sit and read for an hour once a week while he goes from apparatus to apparatus learning the basics. He had his first evaluation last wednesday however and was unusually tempered in his expectations. He told me afterwards that he got high fives after every thing he did other than headstands. I am proud of him for trying and making an effort.
Soccer has been going well enough because well we haven't had to play any games. That began last Friday. Now, we play in a league that is for "recreation" and I take this to mean that everyone gets about equal playing time and gets to play the position they want. No parents get mad and the kids go home exhausted and everyone is happy. I was apparently very very wrong. Friday we were to play a team from a rival neighborhood which is one rung higher on the Birmingham Neighborhood Snottiness Index (BNSI for those playing at home). I show up on Bear Bryant (rest his alcoholic soul), which is to say at least 15 minutes early. I was in fact nearly 30 minutes early for a rec league game. This might as well in my mind been a week early.
Their team warming up
I roll up on the field and there is the other team. I am going to try and not exaggerate. Their matching bags were all lined up, their uniforms were gleaming and I believe all had been starched and pressed. The coach had a matching outfit. They were doing organized team drills without prompting from their coach that had been rehearsed. There are Broadway shows that are less rehearsed than these guys bag placement and warm ups. This was impressive. Plus all of this kit was black, a very impressive color. I will give it to them. That was half of the show after intermission I look to the opposite sideline and each of the Hitler Youth's parents are lined up with such precision it would take a German to appreciate.
Me: Will Ferrell 2Pop: Ditka coaching up the team.
Note to self - Rewatch Kicking and Screaming
A glance at my bench and you would see two boys in different uniforms facing the wrong way. Not a good sign. This was a sign of things to come. My team did well (once they trickled into the field. the last player got to the game at half time). Played defense well and kept the score to 3-0 until the last 3 minutes. I was proud of them. The parents even eventually sat on the right side of the field.
Now I know you are wondering about the last three minutes. My team was tired. Some of them still don't know which way to face on the field or which goal is ours when we are playing. The game was over at 5-0. Everyone had fun and no one was too upset. Plus there were granola bars and PowerAde for everyone at the end. I wish at the end of awful days at work there was another professors mother outside with a cooler full of cocktails and appetizers telling all of us as we came out of the building, "Good Game."
Yeah so I am wearing a stained shirt today. It has been stained for a while and I never remember in the morning. I remember after at least one lecture. Nobody has ever said anything but now I just want to take it off, throw it away and wear my undershirt to teach my next lecture because if I don't do it while I am thinking about it I will take it home and wear it again. I am a doofus.
So the supermodel and I realized we shared a gap in our movie knowledge as neither of us had ever seen Road House before last night. Now the supermodel fell apart first when she saw the Ferrari pull up and a girl get out in black pumps in the opening credits. To my dear wife's credit, she has learned to appreciate and love Italian super-cars as much as I have learned to appreciate couture heels. Granted her first love is the heels but then any Lambo SuperLigera.
Her second moment of bliss happened when we got far enough into the movie to realize that this was the exact same thing as Dirty Dancing. Plot devices that are important are accompanied by the appropriate music so as to let you know to pay attention. It really is the best type of movie. Now the supermodels obsession with dirty dancing is genetic and her maternal grandmother who is the most prim and proper woman ever must watch it whenever it comes on TV. (I ADORE the duchess as she will henceforth be known) I do believe she might even postpone a bridge game for it. I doubt it but it is possible.
The only major differences in this movie is that the bad guy is creepy as H and not a lawyer from law and order and a young (dreamy) Sam Elliot shows up with a silver mane. To quote another great movie of the era (They Live), He was there "to kick ass and chew bubble gum. And I'm all out of bubble gum." He really was the highlight of the movie for me. I think it is mostly because I covet his ability to grow luxuriant facial hair.
We had to stay up late to make it happen (9:30) but we watched an entire movie after the kids were in bed and laughed and really had a great night. It was long overdue for us to have a night at home just spending time together and nothing brings you together like a naked Patrick Swazye butt and liberal rating system from the 1980's. Seriously this movie was sponsored by actors on coke and nudity, lots of it. Well done 1980's. That is what the concert from a week ago seemed to be missing from its 80's repitoire, topless girls, foul language and a G rating.
so, our friends (the stuncaphers), the chef and the girl who loves puppies, came into town to see a rock show last night (we will get back to the rock part). We LOVE these guys. She smuggled mini-bottles of champagne and raspberries into the theater with the supermodel when they went to the movies and when I went with her she was the mule for a full large sized pizza. She is the person to see movies with obvs. He is a chef. What else do you want me to say about him? He is amazing and showed up with a handle of Dr. Muffin Tops magic elixir and a bottle of Prosecco. Well I think it was a bottle of Prosecco it was gone too fast to really know for sure.
Previous to them darkening our door we had a day. There was a Biology Honor Society picnic at 5 that chubby cheeks and I went to while the supermodel got Wilson and Mr. fabulous ready for grand-pal's night at their school (At which dr. toliet told them that his mom and dad were going to a bar to smoke cigarettes and drink beer later). 2Pop and Mimi (totally BiggieSmalls but she doesn't appreciate her nom de plume) came to get them and whisk them away. When I got home it was clean and pull down the murphy bed to prepare. I was tired and had a big glass of milk to help prepare me for a nap that I had no time for. Then all within 15 minutes or so, the grand-pals and progeny returned, progeny was all put to bed, the grand-pals left, the Stuncaphers arrived, and then the sitter of children. I didn't know which way was up. The Prosecco was popped and downed while toasting our lives of great pleasure.
We piled into the Volvo at which time the puppy lover announced an epiphany. "that baby sitter thinks we are old." We laughed while she and the supermodel discussed her flawless skin and youth. I think the jump from newlywed and in love and hip in a hip town like Oxford, MS to a suburban house full of kids that require sitting was a bit of shift. Hilarious to watch the wheels turn.
Show was at the bottle tree. The supermodel bought us food there to hopefully perk us up and it did and we had one of the finest beers ever judged in competition. I mean it did win a blue ribbon. What have you ever won? Oh me? I won a medal at my half-marathon. Yes, they did give them to everyone but mine is special.
Must watch Goonies
I digress. The show was fun. Not bands I would pick out to go see but I was happy to be drug out to see them. The venue is eclectic and has all of the best bits from thrift stores from the region. The crowd was young and very hip. Just ask them, they are totally hip and have heard of bands that don't even exist yet. You get the idea. Totally fun though. I especially like the girl who showed up in roller skates and had three known wardrobe changes throughout the night. Not just shoes and hats but different dresses, shoes, hats the works. Each more Cindy Lauper than the last. Speaking of which, the first band Nicky and the Dove was pretty much a younger more Swedish version of her with some blinky rave lights in her hands and vague belly dancing thrown in. Yes, that is what I mean and yes it was a bit odd. The music was catchy though.
Twin Shadows is who the Stuncaphers had come to see and I really was surprised by how much I didn't hate it. The supermodel has the hipster doofus taste in music (Read as: Hot Chip, Grizzly Bear, Panda Bear(who I think is just the beach boys) etc.). She dug it. I admit is was fun and it def had 1980's shiek, new wave, talking heads with U2 guitar effects. I don't know how to describe it. Go listen to it for yourself. At one point in the show he compared the Bottle Tree to the aunts house where they didn't care if you smoked pot. He then asked if anyone had any parents who were cool like that. A few hands. He then asked if anyone was a parent. My hand and maybe one or two others who made poor decisions in high school. We were booed. Mr. Shadows then chastised the boo-ers. That endeared him to me slightly. This did not help the we are old theme playing in the back of my head. I am hip and all those trust-fund hipsters can... go do bad things to themselves. As puppy lover said at one point, I have a job and heath insurance and a retirement plan so you guys can suck it.
Is the blonde a guy in drag? Falacia?
Show ended around midnight. The supermodel and I ended around 11:30. We found a spot in the back to crash and look through old show posters and a 1960's design coffee table book. We crashed hard but it was delightful and a perfect end to the night. Snuggled up in public being judged by kids born in the 90's wearing clothes from the 80's and listening to music with Heavy influences from the 80's. I wanted to tell them it wasn't that great the first time but they all want to be in the Bengals. What can you do?
We got home, paid off the sitter, and chatted and ate dark chocolate M&M's. The only regret of the night was the lack of late night greasy Mediterranean food (the purp). This was skipped due to their departure time of 4:00 so as to get to work today. Real Jobs for the win!
