Things Overheard May Surprise You

I was puttering around earlier this evening, repotting Phil.

Squeak (13) and Boo (11) had volunteered to make dinner, and they were chatting rather excitedly as they worked.

After having more or less safely transplanted Phil, I entered the kitchen, intending to wash my hands, and overheard Boo proclaiming;

" ... and *that's* how you survive the Zombie Apocalypse!"

Strangely enough, I feel somewhat safer now ...

Although I must say, I think Phil has The Best Zombie Defense System Ever:

Phil (Boo's cactus) is here seen with his one true enemy, his Arch-Nemesis, Time-Share Kitty.

The things they say ... Instalment #3

In case you had forgotten; I do have children other than Boo :-P

The reason he gets mentioned so frequently? Simply put, he is home more than his older siblings, which means I get to spend more time with him.

But the other Minions of Chaos are just as entertaining as their littlest brother.

Teenagers are interesting creatures. They can come across as morose, brooding, even.

They sometimes prefer to give off the impression that they don't want or need you around.

But the truth is, they really do; they put up a prickly exterior as if to see if you truly do love them, warts and all.

There's a trick to getting teenagers to talk- usually it involves getting them alone, and often, somewhere NOT AT HOME. Privacy is key.  I have found that some of the best conversations I've had with my teenagers have taken place while we were in the car.

A recent conversation with The Teenaged Son (aka "The Viking") went as follows;

"Mum, how old was Tigger when she got a debit card?"

(I had to ponder this for a minute or two)

"Hmm, about your age, I guess ... Why do you ask, are you wanting a debit card yourself?"

"Yeah ... "

Now, I'm not saying I'm opposed to him having a debit card, but it's a good idea to be fully aware of the motivation behind some requests ...

"Okay, and why do you want one?"

"Well, because having a debit card kind of makes it easier to pay for things when you're out on a date or stuff like that; you know, as an example."

"Aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

(pause)

"So ... is there someone in particular you had in mind for this hypothetical date?"

"Maayybeee ..."

:sniffle:  What happened to my little boy who liked to cuddle on the couch while watching "Little House on the Prairie"?!

They grow up far too quickly ...

A Letter to my nephews

Hey boys,

I have a story about your Daddy that I think you might enjoy.

When we were kids, our parents frequently bought "Neapolitan" ice cream for us to have for desserts.

That's the one with the 'stripe' of chocolate ice cream, a stripe of vanilla in the middle, and then a stripe of strawberry ice cream on the other side. I guess the idea is that you can enjoy three different flavours at once, but personally, I didn't care for it, because you really ended up with vanilla ice cream that tasted like either chocolate or strawberry ice cream (or worse, both at once!), or strawberry ice cream that tasted like chocolate (how that happened, I was never sure, the two colours/flavours never even touched- weird, hey?).

Anyhow. Just like they are chez vous, food packages here are bilingual- generally having French on one side, English on the other.

On the French side of the carton, "Neapolitan" was "Napolitaine".

One evening your Daddy was looking at the carton (it was the French side, but he likely hadn't noticed that), and asked if we could have some "Napoleon ice cream" for dessert ...

Needless to say, we all giggled, especially your Granddad. But your Daddy was never one to admit he'd made a mistake for something like that, so he persisted in calling it "Napoleon ice cream", even pointing out the words to a song we'd learned in school (at least, as he'd heard them ...)

"Napolitaine avec cinq cents soldats ..."  (I'm fairly certain it would have actually been "Napoleon avec cinq cents soldats", but there was no arguing details like that with your Daddy!).

I guess you could say your Daddy's persistence paid off, as "Napoleon Ice Cream" became the family name for that particular flavour- in fact, I still want to say it whenever I see a carton of it in the grocery store!

So, next time Mummy's going shopping, ask her to pick up some Napoleon Ice Cream for you guys to try, 'k? And let me know if you concur about the blending of the flavours, too (concur is another way to say "agree", btw).

Love you both,
Your Auntie

Writing Struggles (which I cannot fairly call "Writer's Block")

For the past six months, I have been working on a tribute to my brother who passed away last summer.

I haven't gotten very far- there are multiple lines, but rather than forming a cohesive paragraph, they are random notes that haven't got much to do with each other, other than the subject matter.

Too much to say, I suppose. Or too close to my grieving heart. I'm not sure, either way.

But a memory from my childhood came to me last night, and it was one I wanted to share with my two youngest nephews- my brother's boys.

When I was visiting them, Monster 1 wanted to hear stories about what his Daddy was like when he was a little boy.  Under the circumstances, The Penultimate Uncle (my other brother) and I could only come up with a few small things, all of which seemed, quite frankly, to be grossly inadequate ... Sir Fiery Locks was pleased to hear them, all the same.

Then an idea came to me. I intend to try writing and posting a weekly instalment, in which I hope to share something about my brother, be it a story, a quirk, a characteristic, a family joke ... or perhaps all of the above.

I hope, in this way, to help those sweet boys stay connected with their Daddy. No doubt their names will come up on occasion, so I will need to find suitable nicknames for them, in order to protect their privacy. For the time being, they shall be referred to as 'Monster 1' (age 9), and 'Mr Man' (age 4). I may, with my SIL's permission, post a photo from time to time (I need to clear this with her first, of course).

I have even come up with a title for these posts:

Letters to My Nephews

1st instalment to follow shortly...

The things they say ... Instalment #2

This evening, as I was working on dinner preparations, Boo came into the kitchen, excited to tell me something about his day.

"Hey, Mum, guess what?" (he didn't even wait for my reply) "Next weekend, I get to be in a movie!"

"Really? Wow!"

"Yeah, but a different kind, not like the ones you see in the stores."

"Oh? Still, sounds pretty cool ..."

"Uh huh! and Me and my friends are going to be in it! It's going to be about an alien invasion."

"Wow, that sounds like a fun topic!"

"Yeah, but I'm going to need ... Can I borrow the video camera?"

"You'd need to ask Dad about that, but I'm sure it could be arranged ..."

He then proceeded to tell me all about how he and his best friend are going to be the main characters, and how they'll be best friends in the movie, too.  His character is the youngest of five children, but *his* parents are divorced, and have both moved to another country, so he lives with his 18 year old sister ...

Yeah, totally not a "Drama guy" there, bud.

The things they say ... Instalment #1

Sometimes, the things the Minions of Chaos come out with leave me perplexed. At other times, frustrated.

But most often, amused. Here is one such example, a recent conversation I had with 'Boo', our youngest (he of the Epic Concert evening).

First, a teeny bit of 'backstory';

I am a member of the volunteer executive for our Community Centre, and on Monday evening, we had our monthly meeting.

One of the items was a report on the progress of a *free* drama programme being run out of the centre, geared specifically to 9-12 year olds. Since our Littlest Man is always telling stories with a dramatic flair and seems to enjoy hamming it up in general, I perked up when they mentioned there was still room in the class. It even falls on a night which doesn't conflict with Karate, Police Cadets, or his print-making class ...

"Wow!" I thought, "This would be perfect for Boo! Hope he's still awake when I get home, I can't wait to ask him about signing up!". I could even hear and picture his exuberant response ...

As it happened, he was still awake when I returned home.  In fact, he came downstairs when he heard me come in ...

"Hey, Buddy! How would you like to go to a Drama class at the Community Centre on Thursday evenings?"

His response was not the enthusiastic "Awesome!" I had anticipated.

And here is where I will heed the advice of Mark Twain, and rather than say "The old woman screamed", I will "bring her on, and let her scream."

"No!" he said, without a second's hesitation. My surprise must have been quite evident, as he immediately followed up with;

"It's not really My 'Thing', Mum. I'm not a 'Drama Guy' ... :::: sigh :::: ", he completed this statement with an eye roll, too.

Nope, you're not dramatic at all, Boo, not even a little bit ... ;-)

Man, sometimes this parenting gig is just awesome.