Eeevil!

Every morning for the past six years, my boys have woken me up with either loud screaming or spastic kicking. Sometimes both. I've gotten used to it by now, so when I woke up this morning to only Angie's snoring, I freaked out. I raced into their bedroom to confirm that they had been kidnapped and found Peter and David playing cars with Tom. What the huh?

'Hey, have you guys raided the medicine cabinet again?'

'Oh, hi Papa! Watch this!'

Peter then ran up and snatched a car from the big pile in front of Tommy's feet. Tom immediately squinted his eyes, gritted his teeth and charged Peter and David. When he started beating them with his car-clenched fists and grunting like a wild boar, Peter and David completely lost it. What the huh?

They laughed their asses off as I contemplated my options. On the one hand, it was pretty funny. I just wasn't sure if it was wise to actually be training Temper Tom to beat people. That might sound all 'fatherly' to you, but I was actually just worried that he might kick my ass next. I was about to break it up when Tom scowled, pointed and started gutturally growling his new word at me.

'Eeevil!'

That's just great - he can't even pronounce his own freakin' name yet, but they are teaching him to curse people. I turned to Peter and David to yell at them, but they were busy lying on the floor and clutching their bellies. Whatever.

'Hey, Angie - is that coffee done yet?'

'I don't know - are you done making it?'

'Eeevil!'

'What?!'

'Eeevil!'

As per usual, Angie ignored my guttural requests for her to do anything in the kitchen. That's okay, though; I haven't serviced the fire extinguishers lately. Besides, boiling water and pouring it might sound relatively safe, but so did tossing a salad.

After exorcising a pot of evil, we took the demons over to Dalia's for her baby sister's baptism bash.

I don't know what's funnier - that Brian is wearing a suit or that Elina is completely distracted by David, who is just off camera and making faces at the recently baptized. Before I could decide, my mental happy hour bell rang and I forced Tommy to open up the bar.

After a happy hour of boozing it up, the kids moved on to jealousy hour. This involved pushing, shoving, and pulling. Not surprisingly, a female was to blame.

'It's my turn to push.'

'Nice try, Peter - back up!'

Peter took the last command a little too literally and face planted Lenny in the dirt, with his back up. Lenny returned the favor with a command that I like to call 'elbow smack' before we decided to move the trio inside to play with the strange kid.

'Mommy, why is that little boy poking that doll in the eyes?'

'Eeevil!'

'I don't know, sweetie. Just go back out to the swings.'

It was about that time that we rounded up the Zoo Crew and decided to head back to the cages. On the ride home, the car's funk-o-meter started pinging away, so I informed Pig Pen, Hog Sty and Mes Sy that we would be hosing them down. As soon as we got home, though, the filthy beasts disappeared.

Considering how cluttered our apartment normally is, this was actually pretty good camouflaging. Had it not been for Tommy's muffled screeching, the boys could have probably camped out in their cave for weeks before we would have discovered them.

After hosing the bugs down, David flashed me his money.


His money was found a few days ago in the garden. After checking with the neighbors, my wallet, and Angie's purse, we decided that it was his to keep. And keep it he has. He sleeps with it, he eats with it, and after tonight, we know that he also bathes with it. If it were a pet leech, I'd probably put my foot down on the whole 'bathing' part of his monetary bonding.

After swimming in money, I told Daddy Warbucks it was time to march his rich ass to bed.


David does occasionally follow directions, but he normally twists them to fit his own warped interpretation. Tonight was no exception as he made his way down the hallway. I am quite sure that the neighbors, along with Tom, thoroughly enjoyed David's mile in my shoes, but cruel Papa put an early end to his little bed stomp. Tom was less than delighted, so his good night kiss to me seemed more like a curse.

'Eeevil!'
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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I played animals with Dalia.
David: When we go to Dalia's.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I almost broke your glasses 'cause I bounced on the bed and got you in the face.
David: When I not more can play.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: Play with Dalia.
David: Play with Dalia 'cause she my girlfriend and I are her boyfriend.

Clowns gone wild

I've often wondered why so many people develop clown phobias. At Dalia's birthday party, I began to understand. At least Brian and Clarice didn't hire any clowns to frighten the children. No, they managed that one all on their own.

I don't know what scared me more - that Brian had a talking duck attached to his hand or that Ronald McDonald was carving the birthday cake with a butcher's knife. Look at that grin!

Somehow, the kids were completely oblivious to perilous mayhem that surrounded them. I just don't get it, though. That duck was so obviously evil. First of all, Patinjo was able to imitate Brian's voice perfectly. Seriously, I could not tell a difference. It was eerie and yes, it creeped me out. If Brian had started quacking at that point, I probably would've grabbed my kids and run like hell.

The second spooky-weird warning sign for me was when that duck kept diving into a bunch balloons and producing birthday gifts for Dalia. What the huh? I mean, come on - the whole playpen was full of balloons and this possessed bird just kept pulling out one gift after another. Explain that one, Batman.

Batman didn't explain jack, but the Penguin was on site and apparently ready to party like a rockstar.

Like most rockstars, the Penguin had a few odd quirks. At first, I didn't understand why he was drifting through the crowd handing out party horns. It didn't really hit me until I went upstairs to the party room, where the kids were listening to reggae.

I was shocked, but after a few moments in the party room, everything somehow seemed funny. Dalia had apparently not spent enough time in the party room, though.

'David! I said no! Stop popping the balloons!'

What Dalia does not understand is that David's brain translates the word 'no' as 'do it one more time'. If the word 'no' is accompanied by screaming, yelling, or crying, his gray matter instructs him to do whatever he is doing as many times as he can before someone yanks his ear. Unfortunately, Dalia does not know the 'ear trick'.

I finally made my way over and found the source for both the commotion and my subsequent laughter.

I didn't realize that all of the balloons were filled with confetti. None of the normal kids did, either. Destructo Dave somehow figured that out all on his own and simply ignored the birthday girl's pleas for him to stop until he had popped the very last balloon, featured here. Happy Birthday, sweetie!
--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: Oh, come on Papa, you know - it was Dalia's birthday!
David: When I by the party make a funny and then I laugh, ha-ha!

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I can't not by the party stay all the night.
David: To come home with you.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: Go to Dalia again and maybe be a princess, too.
David: To make Tommy laugh 'cause he a baby.

I are three, okay?

Davey can count to three. Isn't that great? When he turns eleven, I can only hope that he'll be wearing open toe sandals. Happy Birthday, by the way.

I only vaguely recollect my college years, but I do remember that it is not a party until someone streaks, you piss off the neighbors, or someone gets beheaded. Not one to disappoint when it comes to partying, I organized the package deal.

Today was only the party - David actually turned three on Tuesday. Since then, he has both pleased us with his newfound toilet capabilities and frustrated us with his insistent and rather annoying quirk to flush down a whole roll of toilet paper every time he has any nature-urge that might actually require toilet paper. I now live in constant fear that the kitchen sink will explode or the neighbors will find bits of Charmin floating in their next bath. This, of course, would surely make David laugh, kind of like how he laughs each time I scream 'DAMN IT, DAVID - STOP FLUSHING THE ENTIRE FREAKIN' ROLL OF TOILET PAPER DOWN THE TOILET!'

I tried to look on the bright side of pooping and laugh the whole thing off. It didn't work, but at least David got quite a chuckle out of the whole ordeal. Eventually, I chose the low road, also known as 'ignore the problem - it will go away on its own'.

Instead, I began filling water balloons for the BIG BIRTHDAY WATER BALLOON WAR! At one point, I mistakenly asked Angie for a tub for all of the filled water balloons. Davey often hears what he wants to and this time, his tiny little brain heard tub and water and immediately instructed him to get naked and run around the apartment like a madboy.

He finally understood that I said TUB and not BATHTUB, but this did little to get the three year old streaker clothed again. Whatever, it's his birthday - he might as well wear the suit.

Speaking of suits, did I ever tell you the hilarious story about how Clarice wanted to hold Tom? No? Well, there we were, sitting around a table witnessing kids lose their mind at a boggling rate. Tommy was the only sane and quiet one, if you can believe that. Even if you can't, shut up. It's my story.

So, Tommy was being all 'look at me, I'm cute, won't you please pick me up? I promise not to dump luke-warm coffee all over you.' Somehow, Clarice fell for the trap. At least her pants were white. Right on, Tommy!

Clarice was not the only one getting soaked. My brilliant idea of having water balloons was backfiring on me. Big time. At some point, Angie managed to convert my idea of the kids throwing balloons at each other in the garden into 'let's make Steve go down to the garden and we can try and peg his head from the balcony'. Oh, ok - thanks honey-thighs.

Missed me, missed me, know you have to...uh, why are the neighbors crying?

I can absolutely confirm that they were not tears of happiness. I guess our water bombs did not catapult as far as I had previously estimated. In short, the water bombs landed in gravel, which kicked up stones, mud, and emotions all over the nicely laid out blanket that was awaiting the visitors of the family below us. At one point, their little girl came running out shouting 'you're getting everything wet'. My sole, yet witty, response was 'yeah, they're WATER balloons'.

After mending a few broken fences and some MAJOR apologizing, we were ready to continue birthday-partying! Angie stayed behind to clean-up, but I saw this as already part of our 'arrangement'. I cook, she cleans. I destroy the neighbor's family picnic, she cleans. Thanks, sugar-lips.

I wasn't the only one pissing off others. We moved to the playground, where Elmo must have seriously angered Peter. In response, Peter did everything BUT tickle Elmo.

I am just damn lucky that our neighbors didn't have a pinata stick handy after the water balloon incident. As it was, I am sure they wanted to rip my head off. Hey, join the club.

Mark and I let the tiny ones fight over the loot as we did victory laps around the playground chanting 'ding-dong, the Muppet's dead' until some of the kids started crying. Pinatas are so freakin' awesome, man!

We decided to take the kids upstairs to cool off a bit. The birthday boy must have thought Chiara was cool enough to share his primo spot in the cooler.

I'm not upset that David did not invite me. Not at all. I am secure enough in my super-mega-coolness to overlook this social face-slap. I didn't care, not even a little. Whatever. Jerk. Bedtime!

David firmly stated that 'I are three, okay' and assumed that this weak argument would somehow convince me to let him stay up later. His statement was not grammatically incorrect, by the way. I am pretty sure that he was referring to his multiple personalities and trust me - there are more than three and none of them stayed up past bedtime. Hmm...maybe you should've been cooler to me? Happy Birthday, by the way.

--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When we did pinata.
David: When Dalia come here to my birthday.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When Chiara shoot at me with a water pistol, but there was very, very, very, very hot water.
David: When Chiara and Alessio not stay here.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play with Mommy hide-n-seek and you and Davey.
David: When Peter play with me pirates.

Wrinkles, wigs and weird women

Today was my birthday party, A.K.A. Wrinkle Party. Angie would be the weird woman in a wig that I mistakenly and perhaps too eagerly thought was a 70's disco stripper hired to boogie down with the birthday boy. I tried to explain to Angie that being confused for a stripper should be a compliment, but Afro-Mama wasn't buying it. Whatever...dance for me, Chia pet, dance!

The morning started out at the butt-crack of dawn with David screaming at the top of his lungs that he MAKE A POOPY NOW, OK?

Actually, it was more than ok. I am so freakin' loving David's newfound friendship with John that I scraped my lazy ass out of bed at six o'clock in the A.M. to put the seat down for Mr. Nodiapers. I have to say, I found it quite hilarious that David says 'bye bye, kaka' and waves as he flushes. I didn't laugh, though. Don't jinx it, man!

After many high fives and some moderate hand-washing, Papa cooked breakfast for the Zoo. Peter has recently shown an interest in the kitchen, so we grabbed his step ladder and I let him break open a few eggs. Luckily for me, Angie and I have an arrangement where I cook, she cleans. At one point, she tried to argue that she should not be responsible for cleaning up pieces of egg shell from the walls since technically it was Peter who made the mess. Nice try, Betty Crocker, but next time you should try your weak-ass negotiations AFTER I have served you your meal.

As Angie cleaned the kitchen walls, floor and ceiling, I grabbed Peter the Helper and Tommy Two Teeth and began setting up for the BBQ.

Tommy is either absolutely fascinated with Peter here or he cannot breath. Either way, at least he was quiet while I put together the picnic tables and benches. The party really started when the Ice-man showed up with the necessary tools for making warm beer cold.

After an hour, Eisi and I began testing out if the ice was actually working. It was, but I believe in being quite thorough when it comes to testing. After our third exam, Eisi broke out his theater wigs that apparently make weird looking kids look even weirder.

Dalia stuck her tongue out, which was cute and funny. Our boys then tried the same and I would say that freaky and disturbing might better describe them.

Bizarreness must be contagious. Pretty soon, all the kids wanted to throw on dead hair and show off their goofy side.

The adults were revolted by how silly and immature the kids were being and immediately began downing barrels of wine to show how mature they were.

I guess it only takes a few glasses of grape juice for the ladies to show how silly and immature they actually can be.

I have to say, with Angie it was no surprise - I know the sound of her wine. The other wigged weirdos took me by surprise, though.

Another surprise came when a Ferrari drove down our street. After sadly confirming that this was not a belated birthday gift, Angie and I chased the car down and got our pose on.

Because there were actually people still sitting in the car, Angie felt compelled to ask the driver if we could take a few photos [above, left]. He answered with 'go ahead, sure - you can even touch it if you want' [above, right]. I can only hope Mr. Conceited was talking about the car. I really think those things should be convertibles; how else are these guys with the big heads actually supposed to fit in them? Speaking of really desperate men, I reminded my private dancer that I never got my birthday jingle [above, middle].

--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When David said 'gaga' and then he laughs.
David: When Peter bonked his head and that so funny I laugh.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I tripped by the party.
David: When Peter cry 'cause he afraid of me.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play swords.
David: To play with Peter pirates and I are a captain, ok?

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.
--------------------------------------------
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.

Vampires, kisses and hair

Europe is always a little behind on things and apparently Halloween is no different. In Germany, it's called Fasching, which must translate to 'sleep all day, then leave your husband at home with the kids and go party your ass off'.

The day started out early. For me. Since Angie slept all day, it was actually the late afternoon that started out early for her. Why was Angie so tuckered out? Well, thanks for asking. It was because we stayed up the night before until two o'clock in the AM playing poker and celebrating Simone's birthday. Why wasn't I tuckered out? I was, actually. At least it was fun - Happy Birthday, Simonelina!

So, yeah, while Angie snored away breakfast and lunch, I played games with the boys. We didn't actually play any games, but we did pull every single one of them down off of the shelves and opened them up to make sure they had all the pieces. As any moron knows, the only way to check that all the pieces are there is to dump everything on the floor and start kicking the hell out of anything that touches the ground. I know this because Angie woke up from her nappy wappy in the middle of our piece checking and called me a moron.

I left Angie to deal with the aftermath of our playtime hurricane and went to cook dinner. Dalia was coming over and she was bringing her parents with her, so I was cooking for seven. Tom only needs carrots, and since they are microwavable, I left Angie to deal with that, too.

After tuna steaks and pasta, it was time for Eisi to escort the ladies to the Vampire's Ball. Brian and I kissed the vampire groupies ba-bye and sat down for what turned out to be two and half minutes of silence. Tom either hates me or he is really turning into a Mama's boy.

I tried a bottle of warm milk. I tried a bowl of baby apple sauce. I tried heating up some really mushy carrots. In the end, I found something that calmed him down.

Either Tom really digs wigs or he thought a dog was sitting on his head and feared it would wake up if he wasn't quiet. Either way, I did not really care. He was not screaming, which was everything I needed to make me smile.

Tom eventually fell asleep, leaving Brian and me to entertain ourselves.

As Brian and I exchanged what I am sure were extremely intellectual thoughts, my wife was busy kissing a strange woman.

Yes, she is very strange. The fun didn't stop, there, though. Angie partied like a rock star and then kicked me to the sofa so another strange woman could sleep in our bed.

At least Angie is related to this weirdo. I may have to revise my translation of Fasching to 'sleep all day, then leave your husband at home with the kids and go party your ass off...and then bring home a blonde sporting nice fangs'.
--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I am playing cars.
David: Peter and Dalia and Peter and Dalia and Brian and stories.
Dalia: When me and Peter and David start playing Diego and Dora and Alicia have birthday.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When David hit me with his hand on my knee.
David: When Peter bonked on the head and he need a krankenhaus.
Dalia: When I wanted to wake up and my mommy and daddy didn't want to wake up.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play with Dalia.
David: When Peter and Dalia make that noise.
Dalia: You know it's the only thing I want to do - play and eat.

Happy Dalia Day!

We had been talking about Valentine's Day for the past week so that the boys would get excited about it. This morning, we asked the boys if they remembered what today was. It's Dalia Day!! Aside from Dalia being their obvious choice for their sweetheart, it was also her Birthday party. And, I have to admit, it was one kick-ass party - beheadings, fire and jell-o shots were just part of the fun organized by Brian and Clarice. Hurray for Dalia Day!

The theme for Dalia's little bash was Dora the Explorer. After being subjected to countless episodes over the years, I have often wanted to whack her with a stick. I just somehow always assumed that this would make the kids cry. Brian and Clarice managed to figure out a way to turn this into a fun event for everyone. Man, I love piñatas.

After the kids took their turns, the adults joined in a therapeutic attempt to rid themselves of built-up cartoon hatred and aggression. Luckily, I was able to duck as Dora's torso came flying across the room. Man, I freakin' LOVE piñatas.

After any good beating, nothing hits the spot better than a good old-fashioned fire.

It is a damn good thing that there was a rocket launcher on Dalia's cake, though. It took everyone's attention away from the fact that there were only three candles on the cake. I am no mathamagician, but four plus one aint three.

In the flaming picture above, you will also see a tray of jell-o shots. After downing six or seven of them, Clarice informed me that they were for the kids. What do you mean by 'there's no Vodka in them'? Who the hell taught you how to make jell-o shots?

The kids then disappeared upstairs to get their faces painted. The adults drank coffee and glared at Clarice for her lack of proper jell-o making skills. After a two cup break, the boys made their way back down to show off their new faces.

Peter looked so proud that I could not bring myself to tell him that he looked like a zombie football player who cut himself shaving. Who knows, though, maybe he actually was going for that 'dead sportsman' look.

David was a little easier to tell. I knew when he raced off to get painted that he would either come back completed covered in red paint, or choose to be a lion. Luckily for Brian and Clarice's new sofa, David chose to be the jungle king.


As the party started to wind down, Clarice completely lost her mind and asked Angie for cooking advice. This, for some strange reason, caused Angie to giggle uncontrollably for ten minutes.


When the snorting and howling stopped, Clarice gave up and asked me. As I explained how to not burn down the kitchen, I heard Angie scream. I turned in time to see one of the kids jumping off of the top of the sofa and landing on Tom, who was asleep on the cushions. Not surprisingly, this woke Tom up, who was not so happy about being jumped on. For the next five minutes, Tom continued to demonstrate that his lungs worked. In the end, he was grumpy, but fine. If anything, he got his first dose of what is sure to come with two bigger brothers in the house.

Having your baby crushed is always a good point to leave a party. Peter and David were spending the night, so we tried to say goodbye. They were too busy shoving handfuls of candy into their mouth. If they would have been coming home, I would have stopped the sugar intake. Instead, I chuckled to myself and wished Brian and Clarice luck. Not good luck, just luck.

We got home just as Sami and Kika arrived. They had volunteered to babysit Tom in our first attempt in over a year to go out without any kids. Since Kika is currently pregnafied, we thought it would be good practice.

We stopped in our local Irish pub for a quick drink and to watch Wales spank England in the Six Nations rugby cup. We organized this win as a birthday gift for Welsh Rob - Happy Birthday! We finished our pint and headed towards the restaurant. As it turns out, the pint saved us being in the middle of eating when we got The Call. I guess Tom is somewhat of a Mama's baby. To make a long evening short, we made our way back home and ordered pizzas.

Even though we stumbled slightly on our first 'baby steps to feeling human again', we had a great time. Even when we came home, Tom stopped crying and went to sleep, allowing Angie and me to have a few moments to ourselves. There was no fire, no beheadings, and certainly no jell-o shots without Vodka, but it was still a lot of fun.
--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk:
Brian claims he did Ladder Talk, so I will add this as soon as the bum gets off his and sends it.

1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter:
David:

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter:
David:

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter:
David: