I contemplated writing something like “The Winter That Never Dies” or “The Spring That Never Came” so that we might remember the strange weather of 2013’s first quarter. Ultimately, I didn’t pull the trigger because I was afraid to jinx us and cause a sudden April snow storm.
In any event, I don’t have a specific story for this particular post. Instead, we’ll just go with the old “throw a bunch of crap that’s been marinating in my brain before I forget” montage. While we’re at it, let’s sprinkle in a little Mad Men influence in light of tonight’s season premiere.
THE ROGER STERLING POWER LUNCH A/K/A LOUD MOUTH SOUP
In an effort to encourage Gus and Tilly from tossing their sippy cups overboard at the dinner table, THE WIFE and I constantly propose toasts and cheers with all the kids. (Perhaps the rapid intake of wine is an ulterior motive as well, but I digress.)
Gus pronounces “cheers” in a pseudo Mass accent, which alarms and endears me at the same time. It sounds like “chee-ahs.” Next thing you know, he’ll be asking for “tonic” after his trip from the “bahth room.”
Greta, meanwhile, is getting much better at drinking out of a big girl cup. She knocks it over only infrequently now, which is nice. As for the vessel of choice, she’s rocking either a Hello Kitty shorty cup (her rocks glass) or a tall, pink Disney princesses collage (her high ball) that used to light up with a flip of a switch before it sat through an accidental dishwasher cycle.
Tilly, when it comes to toasting, is far and away the most enthusiastic participant. As soon as she detects that someone has lifted their glass to cheers, her eyes widen and she rapidly grabs ahold of her drink with one hand. With a crazed-looking grin, she will swing her sippy cup wildly (still one-handed) as if she were imbibing with other Vikings in a medieval tavern. We could do this for hours and she wouldn’t complain, I’m convinced.
DON’S IMPROMPTU REPAIR OF PETE CAMPBELL’S LEAKY KITCHEN SINK
We have a hand-me-down crib from friends of our friends, which we’ve been using for Tilly. (Gus has Greta’s old crib.) I’m pretty sure the manufacturer is out of business and this model has been recalled for safety reasons.
Irregahdless, Greta gets a kick out of climbing in with Tilly to jump around, yell, laugh, and drive me crazy. The other day, the jumping finally took its toll so Tilly’s been sleeping in a pack-n-play this week. I told THE WIFE I’d try to fix it over the weekend.
Saturday morning arrived and THE WIFE abandoned the house with the kids (solid move, props to you WIFE) so I could attempt a repair amidst peace and quiet. Naturally, I squandered the free time on other less pressing chores.
I finally began fixing the crib yesterday afternoon but only after all three kids were back. Of course that meant they were all up in my grille. My head and arms were buried below the undercarriage like a mechanic under a car, as my belly and legs jutted out exposed to elbow drops and body slams. Little faces peered in under the bed skirt, while my tools suddenly vanished and reappeared intermittently.
After lots of twisting and pulling, pushing and manipulating, swearing and punching, I could not get the damn thing to reattach. Greta had been working with me throughout the ordeal. She was begging for a chance to use the Allen wrench to tighten up a bolt somewhere but I kept putting her off as I attempted to diagnose why the crib would not stay together. Finally, Greta says “Hey dad, can I tighten this bolt? It’s loose.” When I saw what she was talking about, I realized that was exactly the fix we needed.
Long story short, one c-clamp, ten cable ties, a few bungee cords, some duct tape, Gorilla glue, and the advice of a four-year old later, we were able to put Tilly back in her crib for bed last night. Thanks Gigi for helping me fix the crib that you broke!
THE JOHN DEERE RIDER MOWER INCIDENT DURING THE OFFICE PARTY SCENE
Almost immediately after we got home from Easter dinner at Nana’s, Gus wiped out on a shirt I hastily dropped on the ground while disrobing. He split his chin open and incited temporary mayhem. What’s a major holiday anyway without any blood stains on a seersucker bow tie?
As THE WIFE and I debated whether our first ER visit was necessary, we iced him down and gauzed him up. Fortunately, G-man handled the situation like a champ and stitches were avoided. He’s already healing pretty well. Rain check on that ER visit.
Greta’s standard outfit for practicing dance around the house is a bathing suit. She will enter a room unannounced until we notice the attire and begin flattering her with compliments. Then I play her “ballerina music” and we watch the performance. Here was today’s outfit and yes it’s on backwards:
THE JAGUAR THAT LANE PRYCE COULDN’T START
Does anyone in America own a computer printer in their home that works on a consistent basis? I’m pretty certain that ours worked for a day or so. We may have even printed one or two pages. Our “fancy” printer hypothetically has a scanner/copying function, though I wouldn’t know because neither command has ever worked for me every single time I have needed it.
Every few months, I come back to the printer and hope that someone has fixed it since my last unsuccessful attempt. Here’s hoping someone out there will give it a go the next time they’re over our house.
At least the printer’s heavy enough to keep the cabinet from moving when Tilly opens the drawers and crawls into it during one of her explorations.
ROLL THE CREDITS
That ends this week's snap shot of our family status circa April 7, 2013. Enjoy the MM premiere tonight.