Hanging out with the bikers

I don't know what I enjoy more - last year when David was too much of a lazy ass to ride his bike anywhere or this year, when he is too fast and too furious to stop, even when Papa yells at the top of his lungs. At least Vin Diesel, Jr. has a helmet, although the pedestrians that run away from him screaming would probably make better use of the protective gear.

After racking up fifteen points for running over a nun, a dog and a parked car, we made it to the clinic. As Angie got her well-needed whiff of new baby smell, Lauri got his first dose of the Zoo and let me just say that the animals were in full roar.

You'll notice that there is a fire extinguisher behind Angie. I guess the hospital knew that Angie would be visiting and thought that she might, for some strange reason, decide to start cooking. Unfortunately for the insurance company, Angie does not win her way to a person's heart by cooking. She does like spending my money, though and as Lauri's future godmother, he can certainly expect a lot of non-edibles.

Speaking of food, I left at one point and raced home to throw a roast in the oven. I borrowed Sami's bike so that I would not take that long. Apparently, I should have pedaled faster.

Not only did I find Sami giggling away at how cruel he can be to his godchild; I also discovered that our three boys plus a newborn makes Angie's ears hurt. A cute little knock-on effect of Angie's ears aching is that she starts shaking with anger until her inner rage is released on her unsuspecting husband as he returns FROM COOKING A FREAKIN' ROAST FOR HER!! Unlike the normal sensitive Metrosexual that I am, I cranked up her hearing aid and rather loudly emphasized this point. Like the pedestrians in David's path of wrath, I was soon feeling the need for some protective gear.
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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When we saw Lauri.
David: When Peter cannot talk.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When Lauri cried.
David: When I cried 'cause Dalia come not.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play pirates.
David: When Peter go out and look with me.

The Funny Bunny Blues

After this year's Easter egg hunt, I walked out of the living room to find Peter grinning at me with blue lips. My first thought was 'holy shit!'. My second reaction was 'holy shit!'.

After the holy number two twice, it finally dawned on me that Peter's blue lips were not the result of some freaky make-up malfuncton. No, for some other freaky non-Easter reason, Peter decided to see how the blue egg from his basket tasted.

If you ask me, it tasted funny.

Family planning

I always wondered how much testosterone could fit on our balcony. Now I know. Thanks, Ullie. It was like a reunion of the Brady Bunch, only Ullie brought three boys instead of girls. In the end, it was more like a back-to-back episode of My Three Sons.

Ullie spent the afternoon flaunting her swollen belly and trying to lure Angie into getting pregnafied, too. I say Angie, not 'us' because I realize I have absolutely no choice in this matter. Before you ask, I do know how the birds and the bees operate. Birds crap on your head and if you're sexy enough, bees sting you in the freakin' ring finger!

I mentioned in the last blog that I was busy at work with my planning for 2009. I also promised to deliver our family goals and objectives for this year. I included one overall objective for the family and a few objectives per animal. Enjoy. Or not.

The Johnson Family
Family ID number: J-2003 (the year when my ankle met the ball and chain)
Overall objective: Family Planning
In 2009, our main family objective - to quit procreating. Even God stopped after one son.


Angie Johnson
Family ID number: J-1921 (the year Betty Crocker was born)
Main Objective: Cooking
Your cooking objective this year will comprise of 70% on-the-job, 20% classroom, and 10% coaching/mentoring.
On-the-job: You will dedicate 70% of the time currently spent glued to those shitty soaps and hospital drama shows to watching the cooking channel. Before you ask, yes - there is such a thing.
Classroom: You will attend a course focusing on one of the following topics: fire-safety, fire-prevention, operating a fire extinguisher, or creating effective fire evacuation plans.
Coaching/mentoring: You will spend a total of 15 nights in the kitchen massaging the chef's shoulders while paying careful attention to his culinary expertise, to include laughing at his witty jokes and delivering beer when he snaps twice.

Peter Johnson
Family ID number: J-2004 (when the April fool was pranked)
Objective 1: Whistling
Your objective this year will be to not rob Papa of his button and purpose in life by learning how to whistle. Oops! There goes part of your bonus...

Objective 2: Tie your shoes
Ok, Whistleboat Petey, you can blow tunes. Can you tie your shoes? Velcro doesn't count, either, so don't even go there.

Objective 3: Ride a skateboard
I once broke my arm on a skateboard and even though I love your arms, you need to learn how to balance pain and the joys of a cast.

David Johnson
Family ID number: J-2006 (when Destructo Dave began his wrath)
Objective 1: Stop crapping your pants
Simple enough.

Objective 2: Quit breaking shit
Simple enough.

Objective 3: Learn to swim
If you have no fear of anything - simple enough.


Thomas Johnson
Family ID number: J-2008
Objective 1: Stop breastfeeding
I'm not a jealous man, but come on - quit being a baby about the whole thing. Besides, it would be nice to have the ladies back.

Objective 2: Figure our what your legs do
I'm not picky - walking, crawling, scooching - all ok.

Objective 3: Speak
I don't care, as long as you say 'Papa' first. You could also say 'not Mama' and I would still give you credit.

You might look at this family planning and wonder where my picture and goals are. I might even answer that question, but it's my blog. Start your own if you want to make fun of me. Yes, I'm talking to you, Johnny. Until then, I would advise all of you out there without families to start planning - there's a fine line between shit and happens.
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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I played sheep.
David: When Peter is a sheep and he acts like baa-baaa and then when he again makes likes this.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I wanted to stay home but then I go to kindergarten and play something.
David: When I want to stay here but then we go'ed in kindergarten and then came Mama and I say 'Mama'.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play sheep.
David: When George and Alex come here again.

Whistler's Baby

Peter can be such an inconsiderate jerk sometimes. I have spent the last five years of his existence trying to find the perfect button to irritate, embarrass, and upset him to tears. At some point, I hit the jackpot with his inability to whistle. Since then, I have helped this button evolve; I fed it on a regular basis, I got it dressed each day and took it for walks, I pushed it when it needed attention...it's really what has kept me sane through all these years with Angie. The fact that she hated the button made it even more attractive to me. Today, unthoughtful Peter killed my precious button with a simple puckering of his lips during dessert. Yes, today he learned to whistle. That's great, son! What do you want, an ice-cream?

After a few hours of crying and banging my head on the wall in search of a new button, I came to grips with reality. My button was gone and I would simply have to find a new way of tormenting the kid. I am, after all, a realist and in the end, I even acknowledged Peter's milestone. Pretty cool, buddy. I hate you.

At work I have been busy setting this year's goals and objectives for my team. Since my little button thief accomplished one of his unwritten goals for this year, I will be publishing my mental family plan soon before Angie learns to cook or David stops crapping his pants. If Tom figures out what to do with his useless legs, I'm going to be so livid.

To add insult to thievery, David actually did use the toilet on his own today. We have tried countless bribes in the past, but our latest campaign seems to be working. He gets a baby sticker for his calendar if he pees on his own and a really big sticker if he makes a really big stinker. My nose can confirm that today he earned a really big sticker.

Speaking of milestones, family planning and cute little buttons with big smells, Kika's belly finally popped today and the balloon she has been blowing up for nine months was finally named.

Lauri Maximilian is certainly a cute button and only appears slightly blurry here. Luckily, he gets his looks from mom, which explains the cute part. The blurry bit comes from dad, or at least dad's phone camera, which was used to take this photo because someone forgot to bring the real camera. 'Cause, come on - why the hell would that have been a good thing to pack?

Sorry, I know I am being an ass, but Peter stole my button today; I am a little edgy.
--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I whistled.
David: When I go'ed poo-poo on the big toilet so now I get a big sticker.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I'm sick.
David: When I cry when Peter hit me with his sword.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play pirates.
David: We play crocodile, or maybe dragon or fire-where bird.

see related cartoon

LEGO Pig

Tom didn't have to sit around being cute all day to win Mama's attention. Peter and David were being such horrible little shits today that somehow her focus was not zoomed in on Tommy 'Two Teeth'. Tom could have spit baby food in Angie's hair just after her monthly bath while giggling and she wouldn't have cared. Ok, he actually did do this and she actually did care. And actually, she does bathe only once a month. And it was actually me giggling, but it was horrible, of course.

David was, big freakin' surprise, the first one to test Mama's patience today. Let me just say that Angie's patience cheats on it's homework, skips class three times a week, smokes in the locker room and most certainly hates tests.

It all started when Mama wanted to stop by the kindergarten to drop off his afternoon snack. By the coat rack, there was a plastic bag full of what looked to be David's clothes. Hmmm...interesting. The clothes looked wet and the bag was fogged up and steamy. Hmmm...interesting. A closer look revealed that not only did the wet clothes belong to David; they were also covered in mud. Hmmm...interesting.

'Uh, excuse me...what is this?'

'Ah, hi Mrs. Johnson. Thanks for asking. Do you see that big puddle out there in the playground?'

'Yeah.'

'So did David.'

'Where is he?'

'He's sleeping.'

'Well, wake him up; I would like to talk to him.'

'Please don't.'

I guess we are not the only ones that truly appreciate David's little naps. While Pig-Pen rolled in his sleep, Peter was busy showing and telling his self-proclaimed 'super-duper most coolest rocket-space ship ever'.


To me, it looked like a few LEGO pieces stuck together to form the letter T, but aside from everything, what do I know?

After kindergarten, Peter went to the playground with the BIG KIDS, who immediately snatched Peter's LEGO masterpiece and began explaining what they would add to it to make it even cooler. Peter loves BIG KIDS and began to panic when they started talking to him. When they asked him if he had any more LEGO pieces so they could help him build what would surely be the next international space station, Peter started hyperventilating and nervously started screaming at them:

'YEAH!! I have more LEGOs!! A whole bunch! YEAH!! I have a box of 700 pieces!! YEAH! I'll go get them - hold on, wait here!! Don't go!'

Peter raced upstairs and immediately started shoving LEGO pieces into his pockets. Angie walked in and questioned why he was out of breath.

'Mama! I need to bring 700 of these down NOW for the big ones. Can you help me count? They are waiting!'

'Why don't you just take the whole bucket down?'

Boy, they don't call her 'Mama' for nothing. Little did she know that this little tidbit of advice would be the trigger for the next giggle-worthy horrible event.

As I mentioned, Peter was slightly nervous. During his race down the stairs to deliver the 689 pieces not used for his spacecraft to the next generation of NASA geeks, Peter the Klutz tripped and sent the bucket and all 689 LEGO babies down the stairs.

It made such a racket that Angie unglued her face from Crackbook for four seconds to check on our future space pioneer.

'MAMA! I need to go out NOW to the big ones. Pick them all up super-fast and bring them out to me - thanks!'

POOF! With that Peter disappeared, leaving Angie to contemplate the situation.

Hmmm....interesting.
--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I drop the LEGO box and it tumble hundred LEGO down on the stairs.
David: When we go'ed out in kindergarten.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I cried 'cause Mama didn't take me with and she didn't ask me when she go with Karin up in our house.
David: When we go into bed and not play.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play pirates.
David: When we play with Dalia hide and seek.

Happy Feet

There’s something really relaxing about kicking your feet up and enjoying a beer in the sun. By that rationale, more beer and more sun should be, well…more relaxing. As it turns out, hangovers and sunburn are not in the least bit relaxing. I guess rationale is just another fancy French word for bullshit.

My stinky digits were not the only ones being aired out; Eisi stopped by for a surprise visit and took Davey's dogs on a helicopter ride.

After pilot and co-pilot landed safely, we had another surprise visitor.

Dalia showed up and suddenly everyone was partying like rock stars. I'm not quite sure why David appears to be doing the robot dance but he was probably just following instructions from one of the voices in his head.

I am also not quite sure why Clarice showed up with a broom. I hope this was not her subtle attempt at telling us that we live in a pig pen. We know. You can show up with a vacuum cleaner, brillo pads and an assortment of liquid cleaners if you want, but it won't change the fact that we are raising three pigs. My advice is to wear rubber boots when you come over and just ignore the smell. Nice try, though, Hilda.

After a liquid lunch of Kool-Aid followed by Kool-Aid, three not-so-calm kids searched the skies for signs of intelligent life.

As luck would have it, there was a witty being towering over them who has been self-described as being highly intelligent. Despite the intellectual jackpot hovering over them, they shooed me away and continued on their highly intelligent search for clouds that looked like SpongeBob SquarePants. I can't remember the last time I saw a square cloud, let alone a yellow one, but I guess there are different flavors of intelligence.

As the cloud watchers enjoyed cloud nine, Tom took his first parachute jump.

He must get his inner navigational sense from Papa, for he landed right next to the crate of Becks. He already has his two bottom teeth which would serve well as a bottle opener. If I could only teach the kid how to use his legs, I would not have to leave the balcony at all. I'll work on that one after I get Peter to whistle.

I was not the only one getting sleepy after an afternoon in the sun.

There's something really cute about the innocent snoring and drooling of a sleepy Johnson. By that rationale, Angie's nightly routine should be, well... even cuter. Man, the French are so full of shit.

--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I played with Dalia Lego's.
David: When Dalia come here.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When Dalia cried 'cause David said where Dalia is and she wanted to play hide-n-seek with me.
David: When Dalia cried 'cause I wanted to play with me hide-n-seek but then I know it that she there in.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play Lego's.
David: When Dalia go home and is still not crying.

The mind is a terrible thing to...what was I saying?

This morning Peter's mind went missing. It was sad, actually. It was there when we started playing a card game that was supposed to teach the boys about the four food groups. At some point between back-to-back wins of grains and vegetables, Peter's brain disappeared. He jumped up onto the table like a savage and started screaming something about feeding him dairy products and meats. Mama was too stunned for words and I was busy fumbling for the camera.

After the 4-H village idiot found his noggin again, we shifted focus to Destructo Dave, who was intent on breaking our bench by cramming his big brain into it.

This morning we discovered that yelling 'get out of there right now' only makes two-year olds giggle and wiggle. It also makes Mamas and Papas mad and sad. I just don't get it - the weather warms up a bit and the entire family freakin' loses it. Is the collective Johnson brain that sensitive to heat?

Speaking of sensitive, Peter has been a little touchy lately about my constant reminders that he cannot whistle. I tried to remind Mr. Sensitive that if he could actually whistle, we wouldn't even be having this blog. At this point, Mama muttered something about holes and donkeys. Honestly, though, I am so used to Angie not making sense that I stopped paying attention to her years ago.

I guess Peter realized that he needed to do something to earn Papa's 'check me out' attention. And, as everyone knows, the next best thing to whistling is snapping.

In addition to his mind, Peter's fingers also learned to snap. Right on, right on. Peter may have lost his gourd, but at least he has finally earned his Indian name 'Snaps on Tabletops'.

Peter's amazing 'snapping' trick was great the first time. By the 536th time, I was so freakin' wowed, I lost my mind and tried to provide some feedback to the Great Snapper. Smart Mama stopped me just after 'You know what, Peter...'. They don't call her Mama for nothing.

You'll notice that I mentioned losing my mind above. If you pay close attention, you'll also read that I never found it. That comes later. Before later, my lost mind thought it would be hee-hee-larious to decorate one of the slats underneath Peter's bunkbed.

Somehow, I thought my humorous graffiti would go unnoticed until some point much later in time when Angie might actually find it funny. What Peter is lacking in brains he gains in eyesight, though, and his self-proclaimed 'tiger eyes' immediately picked up on my art and liked it so much, he asked Mama what it said.

So not only can Peter not whistle, he cannot read. Too bad, he might have had a good laugh and saved Papa a night on the sofa. Instead, it was Mama's turn to lose her mind. Let me just say that Mama was not too stunned for words and I certainly was not fumbling for my camera.
--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I go'ed with Dalia to Happy Kids.
David: When we have up high a pirate ship.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When Dalia couldn't stay a little bit and play with me.
David: When Peter was in my bed.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play with Dalia Easter bunny and little dragon and little lion.
David: To play with the white cat.

Don't forget your belly button

When you're a kid, it's the simple things in life that can bring a goofy smile to your face. For Peter, simple came with vanilla ice-cream, strawberry syrup and a spoon. When you're a goofy father, it's the simple pranks in life that bring out the kid in you. For Papa, simple came by telling Peter that he forgot his belly button at home and cracking up as he frantically ripped out his shirt to confirm that his father is an ass.

The third to last thing you should do after downing ice-creams and sugar water is to try and drive. The second to last thing to do is to choose a Vespa as your mode of transport. The absolute last thing you should do, though, is to allow a pregnant woman to drive.


Luckily for Peter, Kika does not drive. This was not even her Vespa. Before having three rugrats of my own, I would have warned against hopping on some stranger's hog for a photo op. I know the temper and fury that a preggie in her last week can unleash, though, so I would instead warn Vespa owners to steer clear of any round-bellies straddling their ride. Just leave 'em alone, man.

While hot Papa was cooling off at the belly-button biker bar, Mama was trying to cool down a hot forehead. We could tell David was not feeling himself when he went for three straight hours this morning without breaking shit. Mama's cure was to snore loudly into his ear. I found this remedy a bit odd, especially the drooling bit, but I have grown accustomed to Mama's peculiar quirks. At least it seemed to work; he woke up with enough destructive energy to don his skull cap and pillage the garden.

Halfway through his raid, I went down to check on our little warrior. I forgot that he had a rubber-sharp sword and made a tiny, little joke that ended in a violent confrontation.

'I didn't forget my belly button, ok? You forgot it! Where is it, Papa? That's NOT funny! GIVE ME BACK MY BELLY BUTTON!'

I know. I'm an ass.
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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I played with Sebastian on the playground pirates.
David: When I play with Peter and Sami.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I whacked David in the head with a chair.
David: When Peter bonk me in the head.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play 'Dragon' with Mama and play monster, too.
David: When Arman come.

Remote control eggheads

I woke up this morning and for a brief moment puzzled over the trail of empty candy wrappers littering the hallway. I am no Sherlock Holmes, but even I did not need the obvious clues. I only needed to follow the smell of candy and sounds of chaos erupting in the living room to grasp that the Easter dealer had delivered its stash to the crazed junkies. By the time I grabbed the camera, Peter's hair was already starting to stand up. Thanks, Mr. Bunny. Remind me to eat you in a stew sometime.

After a breakfast fit for Oompa-Loompas, I took my two chocolate-loving knee-highs down to the garden for some good ole' fashion American football. Ready, set, CRACK!

After breaking a few of the eggs, I began to appreciate why tradition calls for hard-boiled eggs and not the real deal.

Another tradition in our family calls for our children to be complete psychotic color-freaks when it comes to, well...just about anything with color. Normally, though, it centers around the plates they eat on and the cups they drink from. They need to match or they don't eat. At least it's good to know that if they ever become big chunky monkeys, I only need to start serving meals on red plates with blue cups.

Today, the OCD skizzos were focusing their quirky little color-matching quirks on the miniature footballs.

It was Easter and I was feeling a slight bond with the boys, so I refrained from pointing out the fact that King David's shirt was blue, not red. I hunt eggs, hear me roar!

Not that it really mattered. David's tiny little mind was so freakin' wired, I could have served him strawberry Kool-Aid in a yellow cup with a pink straw and he wouldn't have minded. Even if he did mind, this would have only crossed a few wires and resulted in minimal smoke and maximum laughter from yours falsely. In my eyes, this was a win-win situation. Angie apparently needs a visit to the eye doctor.

After the hunters were done slaying innocent embryos, we packed up the Zoo crew and headed to Grams and Opa's. Thanks to Papa's self-restraint and Mama's patented 'look', we made the entire trip without David screaming his head off about pink straws, yellow cups and blue shirts.

Ten seconds after arriving, the boys went hunting again. This time, they brought witnesses.

I was really shocked to see how badly Grams and Opa kept their jungle. They had eggs littered all over the place. Despite their affection for slimy bugs and their amazing ability to generate mass quantities of trash and their relation to grandparents with messy gardens, our boys are not litterbugs. They quickly and not so silently scooped up the shelled chickens and decided to give each other earth-friendly hugs.

Peter was the hugger. David was the tree just trying to breathe. Shortly after, David returned the favor with a power neck rub and suddenly Peter was the one fighting for air. Ok, some of the animals might have had a little too much of the sweet stuff.

Speaking of sweet, this picture was so cute that Peter had to shield his eyes.

I don't know why I like this picture so much. Perhaps it is that Angie is the one in the background bridging the generation gap and what's not to like about bridges?

After the Opa-Tom face-off, the Schumacher brothers had a show-down of their own.

Peter won, which earned him the right to remote control David's life.

David didn't seem to mind, which is odd, because David is most certainly the controlling type. I think he gets that from Mama, but I am not quite sure, since she does not allow me to google.

It made me wonder, though - if I, with my obvious capacity to learn, cannot Google, who should be allowed?

Despite the clever foreshadowing, Tom is not allowed to Google, either, but he is allowed to gaggle and giggle. From what I can gather, Mama also allows him to shove big-ass spoons down his throat with no other apparent purpose other than to make gagging noises that make our other two gagglers giggle.

After Willy and Wonka were done with their hilarious sugar purge, I told them each to pick out a book to read. Now, I have said it before - I am no Sherlock Holmes, but even I did not need the drool and sounds of snoring to tell me that the crazed junkies had finally crashed. I tip-toed out the door of snores and went straight for the computer, where Angie's Face was in a Book. I asked her to bring me the casserole dish we use for stewing rabbits and suddenly we were reenacting 'Stealing Harvard'.

'Asshole!'

'MMMMM, I love remote controls.'

'I said asshole.'

'I thought you said remote control.'

'Well I said asshole.'

'Yeah, but I HEARD remote control.'

In the end, Angie lost her remote as well as her control and the rabbit stew turned into Argentinian steaks on the grill. After feasting on the non-bunny meat, I checked on Peter and David. Peter's hair was still sticking up and David was doing the candy dance in his sleep. All in all, a very sweet Easter.

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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When we did an egg hunt by Grams and Opa and by our house and we find choco eggs.
David: When the Easter Bunny were here.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When David's belly hurt and he said I want to sleep.
David: When we played not Hucka-Pack-a-Peter

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play Hucka-Pack-a-Peter.
David: When we play Hippo Flip.

Beezlebub: Lord of the Trees

Instead of walls, driving, and us, Peter has been using trees, climbing, and himself. At least for going up. I really hope he learns the whole 'getting down' part soon. Don't get me wrong, my body is fit enough to get into an ear-biting contest with Tyson, so I can certainly climb up a tree to rescue my little cat. It's when I have to toss the sack of potatoes on my back and do the fireman's carry down the tree that my body starts nagging.

Speaking of Angie, we met some of her friends today down by the river.

They are actually my friends now, too, but according to the social rules of social rulers, friend ownership is etched in stone at the point of initial contact. That intial stone would be Angie. If after meeting Angie, they are neurotic enough to want to meet me, I begin to wonder. If they then meet me and are insane enough to actively pursue further contact, I begin to worry. Oddly enough, they are neither neurotic nor insane, causing me to wonder why I worry.

As I was busy thinking up really clever sentences, Peter was quietly inching his way up the crazy tree.

You'll notice a twinkle in the inchworm's eyes that at first glance probably looks cute. After raising David for almost three years, though, I have learned to zero in on these subtle looks. I stare at them, analyze them, drink a beer, then analyze them some more and normally come to the conclusion that things will end badly. Sometimes fear is involved, sometimes not. It normally depends on what is in David's hands at the 'snapping' moment. In this case, the 'what' was a watermelon rind that broke the camel's mind.

I was chilling out in the grass watching David dump a bucket of water on a little girl and wishing that the grass grew longer and thicker so I could I could crack up without the dirty looks from Angie and Wetgirl's parents. Above the laughing on my inside, I heard a far-off distant 'snap' that sounded oddly like Peter's brain. I looked up and found that Peter, Lord of the Trees, had stripped down to his skivvies and was wailing like a loon.

I got up to deal with Piggy and noticed that Wetgirl's parents were now the ones pointing and laughing. I pointed as well, only I used a different finger and to the unsuspecting eye, it might have looked like I was pointing at the clouds. They must have suspecting eyes, though, since they stopped laughing and began packing up their shit. Bye.

As Peter continued blowing his conch shell to round up the other savages on the island, one of the 'littluns' started freaking out.

It turns out that baby Gilligan was never meant to be on this island. He was supposed to be on a three hour tour and crash into a completely different island. I hope he doesn't run into the poor bastards from 'Lost'.

Amir came to the rescue and took the little lost Bob Denver far away from the Wailing Willow.

You can tell he is a veteran of two boys. The left hand is curled just perfectly to both frame the baby and still display the wedding ring. I know from experience that this helps avoid hours of getting hit on by the ladies and nasty arguments with the jealous wife.

More important, though, is the right hand gently grasping the baby's fist. Babies are either gross or curious; sometimes both, but if you leave them too long with a free hand, you will undoubtedly end up tiny digits yanking out your nose hairs or your glasses will be whipped off and smashed on the floor before the baby can even begin to giggle.

Speaking of smashing things on the floor and breaking them, David also had a slice of watermelon.

Knowing already what effect the melon had on Peter, I began to run. Fast.
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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When we played trains and when Meyssam come.
David: When I want to make a play with Peter and he like my new game.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When Mama said 'don't burp' and then I burped and I went to my room and no one was there.
David: When I coughing.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To go to Easter and see what that bunny give us.
David: When I make a big bunny - the Easter bunny.

Takin' it higher

Simon says 'Get high'. Peter and David certainly do not listen to me, so I have no idea why I thought they would listen to some stoner named Simon. As I learned today, though, if you want your hell-rats to follow simple commands, you only need to prefix them with 'Simon Says'. It works. I don't know why, but I have learned years ago to stop questioning the logic behind anything that keeps the yappers from yapping.

Speaking of illogical yappy types, we went down to the river today, where Angie hung out with a whole flock of yappity ladies. Obviously, I caught the gaggle here during feeding time.


One might ask what the males were doing while these birds pecked, nibbled and gossiped. To that, I would slap you twice and ask YOU what you THINK we were drinking?
While the BIG boys secured the future of barley and hops farms across the world, Peter and Arman were busy making monkeys jealous.


After strenuously watching the BIG boys getting high, Tommy must have felt a little left out. To feel a little left in, he jumped in my backpack. This was actually pretty funny, until he touched my coffee cup. Do NOT touch my coffee cup. Don't look at it, don't drink from it, don't even SMELL my coffee mug. What I forgot to scream at Tommy No Ears was 'Simon says' not to drool, spit and giggle into my beloved coffee cup.

After coffee, cake, and explaining to Angie why I had a baby kangaroo in my pouch, I thought it would be wise to teach the other Joeys 'the basics'.

Basically, Angie has been known to occasionally lose it and think she can branch beyond microwaves and take-out food, so I felt it to be crucial that the boys know how to call the fire department. Here in Deutschland, you dial 112, despite the Finnish yahoo who is holding up the number five. Miss Pretty in Pink is just there for aesthetic reasons.

Speaking of aesthetic, check out this hottie....

The chick without the goatee isn't so bad, either.

This was actually quite a cute picture of Tom getting high, until he peed down my neck. Then it was a funny picture if you ask Angie, which I certainly would not. If you ask me, provided I am not Angie, it was not funny. At all. First the kid French slobbers my coffee mug and now this? If he gets a strike three today, I am renaming him to Milhouse and will laugh my ass off until he is out of school.

I've heard if you get stung by a jellyfish, you should have someone pee on you and then go eat ice-cream. I wasn't stung by a jellyfish, but the ice-cream helped take my mind off of getting peed on.

While waiting in line for ice-cream, I told all three of them to be serious for a moment. As you can see, they listened about as well as Tom stands. In their defense, it was me that told them and not Simon the pothead with his freaky voodoo mind control.
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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I had an ice-cream.
David: When we saw Dalia by the water thing.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I climbed up the tree and it was fun but when I wanted down I couldn't go.
David: When I eat Peter's ice-cream and I cry 'cause you said I go lay in bed and sleep.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play with you and Mama upside down.
David: When Tom is playing.