As I was putting the kids to bed tonight, Peter cornered me.
'Papa, you need to write more blogs. You used to write stories when we just went to the playground and threw mud at each other and now we went on a road trip to so many countries and you didn't even write about that.'
I was speechless. After so many years of being married, I wasn't really ready for a family member to start making sense, but there it was.
I've been writing the blog for eight years and at some point, the focus has somehow shifted from its original intention.
When I started the blog, I simply wanted a way of documenting our family memories for the boys to enjoy when they are older. Something more than a dusty photo album that captures the snapshot but not the content. I wanted both and I wanted to make it funny. Okay, as long as I'm being honest, I really just wanted to make fun of Angie; the fact that I can and have humiliated the boys repeatedly over the years as well has just been, you know, gravy.
I often joke about having two readers, but this is exactly what I had for quite a while in the beginning. Angie and my mom were my two readers, but over the years, the audience has grown and I think this has influenced my writing. I've found myself not writing about certain events if they were not funny enough or if I didn't have exactly the right pictures. Tonight, Peter reminded me that I am writing his memories. Thanks, buddy, for resetting me.
I will write about our road trip, but tonight I wanted to reassure Peter that his message was heard. Today was one of those days that I probably would have skipped, but there definitely were a few memories.
Lately, Peter has been using the phrase "nailed it" way too often. The other day, he poured himself a drink and proudly proclaimed that he had "nailed it". I explained to him in my normal gentle fashion that pouring a glass of apple juice is not something worth patting yourself on the back for. Since then, he's been a bit gun-shy on using the phrase. Until today.
Peter had a presentation today in Biology on trees. This by itself is not funny until I explain that a few days ago, the mother of his "poster partner" called to ask Angie when Peter was going to meet with her son to work on their project.
'Project? What project?'
Yeah, slightly embarrassing, but I think Peter learned a valuable lesson shortly after Angie stopped apologizing and hung up the phone.
Peter felt bad for forgetting to tell us that he had a major project and then spent the past few days working his ass off with his partner on the poster and presentation. I'm a natural born procrastinator and some of my best work has been done in the 11th hour, so I was not that surprised when Peter totally scored today, getting a 1+ because, according to his teacher, it was not possible to give a higher grade.
Next, Peter had hockey. I walked in to pick him up as he scored his sixth goal. I know this because he is still too young to care what other people think and screamed this tidbit to me when I walked into the hall.
Peter was rightfully impressed with himself, but I think his biggest ego boost came from David. David has hockey training directly before Peter and because Angie and I both agreed that the hockey shuttle bus only makes one run, David has to simply wait around and watch Peter play. In the car ride home, David, who has been playing hockey longer than Peter and is one of the star players, turned to Peter.
'You were really awesome tonight.'
Older brothers typically ignore compliments given by their younger brothers, but I think Peter took this one to heart.
When we got home, Angie told me that David had a class breakfast the next morning because it's their last day before the break. Angie was in panic mode trying to finish the quiz, so I was volunteered to go to the store and pick up a cake or some pastries for him. I then went to the store and wound up buying ground beef and bread. When I came back home, Angie summed it up nicely.
'So, what did you get for Davey's breakfast?'
A few years ago, Master gave me the task to go to the store to buy toilet paper. I got distracted and came home with a kick-ass wireless printer/scanner/copier and, surprise, surprise, I forgot the toilet paper. Hey, shit happens.
Since I was cooking, I sent David back to the store to get what I had forgotten. We gave him 15 euros, thinking this would be more than enough to buy the dry cake that we told him to buy. When he came home, he dropped 20 cents on the computer table and proudly flaunted his brain's idea of what would make a perfect BREAKFAST for his class.
As Angie was wasting her breath trying to explain nutritional concepts to an overly proud nine-year-old, Peter poked his head around the corner and high-fived his brother.