Saturday, June 8, 2013

Act Your Age!

Act your age!

Whether it's my Mom or my wife, that one never gets young. The phrase, of course.

Acting your age is never easy, which is why my philosophy has always been to pucker a funny face at society's mental outlook on life and enjoy. Or not. 

My mental mantra started to leak water earlier this year when David had to switch hockey leagues.

'I don't want to.'

'Too bad!'


'So sad!'


'Don't be mad!'

'Papa! That is not...'

'Just be glad...'

'Stop it, Papa!'

'...that I'm your Dad!'

As luck would have it, David stopped crying at exactly the same time I stopped laughing.

'Davey, come on - what's the problem? You're getting bigger - it's time to move to the big leagues!'

'Yeah, but Papa! I am the best player now. When I go to the big ones, they are, you know, ...too big.'

'You're right - the big ones are probably just gonna squish you like a bug for the first year, but hey! At least you get a kick-ass jersey.'

You might feel compelled to ask why David appears to be eagle-stranded on the sidelines while all of the other slightly taller kids played on the field. I might also feel compelled to ask you to politely silence such compelling questions. Luckily, we managed to keep our compulsions in check long enough for David to get his game one. His two-goal victory face came out on the way home.

Once home, there wasn't a whole lot of time to celebrate. Angie was hyperventilating something about being late to a party.

'Party? What party?'

Oh, that's right. Sami gained a gray one today and for some reason, his birthday wish was to have the Zoo Crew teach Lauri and Matti how to go even wilder.

On the way over, Tommy proved that he is a new dog that can still learn tricks. Thanks, Davey.

Most people, when invited to a friend's birthday bash, will at least wish the old bastard a happy wrinkle before settling down. Angie proved again today that she is not a normal human. 

'Hi, Angie, thanks for...'

'Yeah, yeah, WHERE'S THE BABY?!' 

I left Angie to breathe in that lovely 'new baby' smell and meandered over to check on spastic jumpers.

The sequence of note-worthy events that followed can be acutely summed up with these lovely gerunds: jumping-laughing-hopping-jabbing-screaming-leaping-giggling-poking-shouting-ignoring-shouting-ignoring-shouting-ignoring-punching-smacking-kicking-sobbing-chuckling.

Okay, the last one might have been me, but in my defense, it was pretty damn funny. Not so amusing was the major meltdown that pursued, telling a certain chisel-chested blogger with hairy feet that it was time to take worn out kids back to the ranch. Right, move out!

On the way home, Peter scored the equivalent of a brotherly canine hat trick.

'Oh, come on, Peter - act your age!'
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: That we was by Sami and Katherina.
David: That I got two goals by hockey.
Tom: That I jump with Lauri the whole time.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When Davey kicked me in the eye.
David: When Tommy hit me in the head with his elbow.
Tom: Why I get an owa on my knee.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: I want to play with my friends.
David: To sleep with Tom in my bed.
Tom: Play dragons with Chiara and Alessio.

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