Sunscreen and Aspirin

This morning started out like most weekends - with sun screen and aspirin. And not necessarily in that order. 

See, last night Angie had arranged for Tommy's Ute to watch the kids so that we could rock my 40th proper. The problem was that my liver apparently missed the memo explaining that it wasn't 21 anymore. My head got the message loud and clear this morning, though, and I can guarantee that there will be a body-wide correspondence going out shortly.

I downed the aspirin with coffee and coyly asked my life planner if a power nap was included in her birthday package.

'You didn't seriously forget that we're going to the park today?'

Over the past decade or so, I have been programmed to ignore certain tones; it's kinda like Pavlov, only instead of salivating, I silently started packing a picnic.

Me being an American, I didn't just pack a picnic. No, no, don't be silly. I packed a five-course meal. And I didn't stop there. In my ripe old age, I simply ignored the fact that we didn't have paper plates and decided instead to pack glass plates. Eleven of them, to be exact, even though Marie is not old enough to use one. I also packed glasses for everyone, silverware, salt and pepper, and a portable radio. Like I said, I'm an American; you don't skimp corners when it comes to a picnic.

The first thing I noticed when I was staging the two very full IKEA bags by the front door is that they were pretty freakin' heavy. At some point, Angie felt compelled to weigh in.

'You're not seriously bringing THAT to the park?'

Instead of salivating, my brain convinced me that getting the car would be far wiser than responding.

As we entered the Schwetzingen Palace, the gate guard peeked into the two IKEA bags full of Tupperware containers, glass plates, and paper towels.

'You do realize that you are not allowed to picnic on the grounds.'

I ignored Angie, who had started cackling like Broom Hilda.

'Picnic? Ha! Don't be silly! We're, uh, just meeting some friends later tonight for a barbeque. Yeah, friends. After the park, of course. And we don't have a car. No, I'm just lugging this stuff around for our barbeque. Later. With friends. After the park. Without a car. Yeah.'

'Ah, okay. Enjoy the park.'
 
Shortly after the gate, my aging shoulder broke down and Nicole came to the rescue by grabbing one of the two IKEA bags. My back thanks you!

As soon as we got out of sight from the guard tower, I tried convincing everyone that they must be super hungry. When that didn't work, I informed everyone that they WOULD be eating, whether they liked it or not.

Something about the twitching in my left eye convinced everyone to look for a suitable picnic locale.  We went with the garden maze, mainly with the assumption that the Park Rangers patrolling the grounds would not venture off of the main path.

Shortly after getting started, I thought I would test everyone's readiness with a friendly evacuation drill.

'Shit! Here comes one of the guards!'

I absolutely love Angie's 'totally busted' look. Shortly after this shot, Angie demanded that I delete the photo, which I then convincingly convinced her that I did. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I offered to give Angie mouth-to-mouth after her self-proclaimed 'near heart attack', but she grumbled something that smelled like a decline. Fine, whatever.

After successfully getting away with our 'forbidden picnic', we continued to canvas the park. At one point, nature called and Peter and David answered.

Finding a toilet in such a large park can be tricky. Also tricky are the signs that indicate which bathroom is for the ladies, especially when you are David and don't really care about things like looking at the sign on the door when you really need to go.

So, yeah, Peter had raced into the Men's room and was totally embarrassed by David, who had danced his way into the Lady's room.

Peter probably could have shrugged off David's faux pas, but as we were waiting outside for David to finish, a woman walked in. A few seconds later, Davey walked out giggling.

'Hey, did you see that? Some lady just walked into the bathroom.'

Peter and I exchanged an amused look. Rather than responding, I asked the boys to strike a pose.

Peter's squeamish look told me that he was still embarrassed. Even so, I thought it was a cool brotherly-type moment.

After our rather amusing bathroom break, we continued our search for frogs. Over the years, I've grown accustomed to Angie's unusual fascination with disgusting creepy-crawlies, so I wasn't surprised that she took the lead.

We finally spotted one, which meant that we could move on the next amusing adventure - tree falling. Tommy went first.

When I was young, I loved climbing trees, too. I prided myself that I could climb higher than my older sister. Okay, this was not so hard because she was too intellectual to climb trees, but that is beside the point. My problem was always the trip back down, which normally involved a ladder and a very annoyed mother.

Tommy solved the problem of getting back down by simply letting gravity carry him home.  The problem with gravity is that she doesn't know concepts like 'carry' and 'home'.

Lisi and Paul witnessed Tom's fall from grace and subsequent meltdown and went on to injure themselves. It was almost as if the kids wanted to earn their 'honor badge' by hurting themselves and then comparing wounds. We decided to move on before they ventured onto something clinic-worthy.

On the way out, I called for a photo-op. The first attempt was, hmmm, revealing.

Paul flat out refused to strike a pose. Lisi was holding onto Marie, who was vocally not feeling photogenic. Marie's screaming apparently concerned Peter, who was about to be unwittingly tipped over into a pile of Canadian geese poop by David. And, for reasons unknown to normal humans, Tommy felt compelled to attack Angie's purse.

'Alright! Someone get the screaming baby out of the picture and let's try this again!'

After this lovely shot, we loaded the kids up and headed home. The ripe smells of Canadian geese poop filled the car, ensuring that this evening would end like most weekends - with a bath and a beer. And not necessarily in that order.
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Ladder Talk: 
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When we went to the Park.
David: The Park.
Tom: When we was at the park with Lisi and Paul and Marie. 

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When Davey went into the woman's bathroom. 
David: When Tommy fall from the tree on his head.
Tom: When I fall from the tree why I was climbing.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To go to Arman's, 
David: To play in the garden with Yuki.
Tom: I want to eat a cheeseburger.

Chili, Fire & Hooch

That's right, baby - we ended the year off proper. I was worried that my old man's recipe for Shit-Hot Chili might not clinch it, so I also boiled up a bunch of eggs and made my own doctored-up version of deviled eggs. Man, next year's gonna stink. 

I spent the morning running around the city buying last minute ingredients. Chili is apparently not native to Germany, so it took quite a few stops at specialty stores to get the good stuff. After almost a decade of marital confinement, I've grown to be a very patient man, so I calmly waited in line at three different stores along with two hundred other idiots who also chose to go shopping just hours before the stores closed for New Year's. What a buncha maroons!

After the last-minute grocery run, I locked myself into the kitchen. Angie chose that point in her universe to announce that she was going clothes shopping with her mom. Rather than bicker with the mother of my children on the timing of her shopping spree, I wished the mother of my wife pleasant spending and racked my brains on how to tame wild ones.

Bingo! Thank you, Nintendo.

Shortly before our chili cook-off, Nicole showed up and took over distraction duty. In addition to Nintendo, David has recently become addicted to Monopoly. We now have the Monopoly Junior, the regular Monopoly, the Star Wars Monopoly and the Monopoly Banker editions. I can only hope that David's fascination with the credit card machine in Monopoly Banker is an indication of a future profession. Make Papa rich, buddy!

Speaking of addictions, Sarah showed Tommy how to cook things with spoons after dinner.

When I questioned Tommy's Godmother as to why she would be teaching my third-born the art of crack cocaine, she got all defensive and claimed that it was just another bizarre German tradition. We go through this exercise every year, but it still ceases to amaze me. Apparently, my wife's people melt hollow chunks of lead and then throw the liquid metal into water. They then analyze the resulting shape, which will supposedly tell your future. I thought it was complete crap, but I tried it and my metal blobby thing looked like a beer bottle. Hey, who am I to argue with fate?

After drinking a beer for the gods, Sarah busted out an equally fun game - Qwirkle. Sebastian was quick to scoff and point out that the game was for ages 6+.

So, yeah - after ten minutes, Sebastian still hadn't gotten the grasp of the game. We sent Peter over to be a special 'advisor' on Sebastian's team. Two minutes later, Sebastian and Peter were winning. Coincidence? I think not. 

I know, I know, Peter is older than 6+. Sorry, but so is Sebastian. 

After hours of fun, we checked the clock. Seven minutes 'til midnight. At that point, Angie and I collectively realized that on average it takes fifteen minutes to get our boys shoed and jacketed, not to mention that we had Chiara and Alessio. Oh, shit.

As the women and children freaked out, I did what any self-loving man would do in a stressful situation and secured the alcohol. Mumms the word.

Peter and David have both had their 'Wow' year when it comes to fireworks. It only happens once in a kid's lifetime. The year prior, they're half asleep and slobbering on your shoulder as the sky explodes. The year after, it's all 'yeah, cool, but I've seen that before'. Last year, Tommy was drooling at midnight and could not be bothered with why his ears were bleeding. This year, he was definitely in 'Wow' mode.

The big boys were also in 'Wow' mode, thanks to Papa buying a shitload of fireworks. My only mistake was allowing Angie to help light them.

So yeah, in addition to dinners, fingers are apparently on Angie's short list of things that she inadvertently sets on fire. At least David reacted when his mother starting screaming like a banshee and waving a flaming digit.

I applauded David's moving display of concern. Even so, I felt that a breathalyzer test was in order to determine the origin of the fire.

'Angie, front and center!'

Amazingly enough, Angie passed with flying papers. Tommy, on the other breath, was running on fumes and starting to get his giddy on. It's hard to believe, but he was giggling more than the adults. Keep winking Angie - you're killin' him!

'Tommy, are you getting tired?'

'No, Papa, you are the tire! Hahahahahahaha...'

I ignore weird family members on a tri-daily basis, so I walked away from Giggle-boy and One-eye and ventured off to check on Peter and David, who were trying desperately to blow up a park bench. I weighed my parental responsibilities and came damn close to showing them where they would need to place the charges to actually get the bench airborne. Instead, I wondered back over to check on my third-born.

'Hey, buddy - are you sure you're not getting sleepy?'

A picture is worth a thousand winks, so we closed the outdoor events with Zombie-boy's goodnight stare.

When we got back to the house, two interesting things happened. The first is that Sebastian decided to torment our cat with remote-controlled cars that are apparently irresistible to felines.

The second noteworthy event was that Tommy got his second wind. He also donned a pair of sun glasses and announced to parents that didn't care in the least that 'I a cool boy why I these glasses have'.

'Yup. Cooler than a mime. Now go to bed!'

'Okay, g'night!'

I was shocked, but I didn't show it. Don't jinx it man, just walk away.

After letting the kids settle themselves, the adults hunkered down to get our game on. We ruled out Qwirkle, but mainly because Peter wasn't around to 'advise' Sebastian. In the end, we settled for a long morning of me spanking everyone in poker. I know, I know - same shit, different year.
--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk: [In addition to Papa, the young pups were in no condition to do Ladder Talk]
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz.............
David: ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz.............
Tom: ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz.............

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

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

Three strikes and you're nuts!

I don't know what the hell got into the gooftards today. I thought about asking our resident expert on all things weird, but Mama was busy primping her shoes or doing some other Venus-shattering event. Instead, the Martians logically began an indoor game of baseball.

Every respectful ball game has to start with some crusty old dude playing 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game' on a dusty organ.

We have a piano, not an organ; but it is dusty. Lauri is not old and crusty, but Sami is. The tune that Beethoven Jr. banged out sounded more like 'Take Me Out to the Field and Shoot Me Now', but in a cute kind of way that only the deaf could truly appreciate. Play ball!

Intermission came with a surprise visit from the away team, who once again proved that there is no limit to their creativity when it comes to smuggling alcohol into the stadium.

I had really expected Johnny to show up with sandwiches for the famished spectators, but I guess he's already been burned once in a previous snack preparation endeavor. Thanks, Damo.

Instead, he brought a bunch of kick-ass gifts for the Zoo, including a t-shirt with an incredibly witty slogan that completely baffled Angie. I loved it, but felt a little bad that Karen had to witness me receiving clothes. It's obvious she needs help, so I will soon be launching my 'Patches for the kneedy' campaign. Hang in there, girl!

After a liquid lunch, the fans were rowdy for some action. I can honestly say, the crowd was not disappointed.

First, Tommy 'The Slider' tried to steal bath base. After sliding into the draining tub and crying a few tears of pure shock, he was scooped up by some fanatic nutcase who began streaking down the home stretch wearing nothing but a towel! After the crowd died down, the incredibly sexy and hairy-chested umpire tried chatting up the 'Green Machine'.

'So, you come here often?'

'I live here, Steve. What the hell are you talking about?'

'You already know my name - that's good. So, is green you're favorite color?'

'Have you been drinking?'

'Why? You want something?'

'Desperately.'

Initially, I took this obvious flirtation as a good sign, but as anyone will tell you, reading signs from female streakers donning wet green towels is a bit like the Rubik's Cube; it's freakin' impossible. Needless to write, I did not even make it to bath base with the 'Green Machine'.
--------------------------------------------
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When we was on the computer and had the Sandman there.
David: When I go'ed with you and Tommy in the kindergarten.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When Tommy almost fell down off my ladder.
David: When I can't not with Dalia play.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: I want to go to Dalia's.
David: When tomorrow comes and Dalia come to play with us.

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?