We miss Peter so much!

Peter left for Africa last night and since then the rest of the family has been in a state of severe depression. More than usual. Different people react differently when battling such sorrow and suffering. Tom apparently hides his emotions by eating powdered donuts and giggling tears away.

After watching Tommy's donut-frenzy and subsequent rise in dopamine levels, the rest of us decided to eat as well.

As you can see, David wasn't snapping out of it. He bawled his eyes out and cried for Peter. At one point, I told him 'nice try' and made him eat the rest of his tear-soaked eggs. He smirked, donned a pirate hat and Hawaiian lei, and announced to everyone that all of Peter's toys were now his. Bwah-ha-ha, the world is mine! MINE!

In then end, we had to physically restrain Davey to control his, uh, sadness. When that didn't work, we kicked him out of the house and sent him to Alessio's birthday pirate party. Don't ask me where the Hawaiian lei came into play.

After David left, Tom had yet another wave of unhappiness. Luckily, Eisi could overlook his own personal anguish long enough to comfort poor Tommy.

Eisi didn't really do anything; sometimes it's funny enough just to look at him. Watching Tom crack up at goofy people made me think of Peter. I wonder what he is doing right now.

Peter was on a plane, getting ready to take off from Johannesburg to Windhoek. They had just started the 'flight announcements' that I still consider insulting. Come on - what kinda moron doesn't know how to buckle his seat belt?

Peter is so thorough (anal) with everything he does and flying was certainly no exception. He actually studied the exit plan as they read through the standard blah-blah 'save yourself, then your kids' speech. At one point, the nice man announced 'if you need any assistance, please contact your flight attendant'. Panic and pandemonium pursued.

'My flight attendant? Hold on. Who's my flight attendant? Is Barbara my flight attendant? Do we have to meet first?'

It was around this point that other passengers were asking their flight attendant to check the shoes on 'that spastic kid over there'.

While Peter was busy freaking out over flight safety, Tom was roaming the apartment searching for 'Pada'. Yeah, that's right - 'Pada'. Tommy the Brain can already say the word 'octopus' but somehow cannot yet say 'Peter' or 'David'. It's okay, though; they're only his big brothers. Just for the record, David is also 'Pada', but after getting clotheslined by 'Pada' this morning, I seriously doubt that he was looking for David.

Tom's lamenting and wailing continued on until lunchtime, where we finally broke down and took him to Burger King. Hey, if the kid's gonna be heart broken and binge-eating, he might as well hang out with his own kind.

After devouring an unHappy Meal, Tom decided to search for his missing brother. I'm not sure why, but I get the feeling that he got slightly distracted at some point.

After half a minute, Tom called off his search and opted instead for a little more 'me time'.

It was eating me up inside to see just how painful Peter's absence was for Tom. Peter was gone, though, and would not be back for a week. An entire week of the same torment and agony that we all had to suffer through today. There was only one hope of dulling the pain long enough to survive this week - champagne.

It was Simone's birthday, so she and Flo stopped by to celebrate. With everyone's thoughts on Peter, it was hard to keep up a party face, but we tried. After the first bottle of bubbly, I started wondering what Peter was doing at that very moment.

Dear Mom,

I miss you so much. I had quite a long flight and somehow managed to scare a few people on the plane. I still don't know what a flight attendant is, but I do know not to start screaming for one shortly before take-off. Anyway, we made it here finally and I thought I would write in my journal how much I miss you. I wonder what you are doing now.

Love,

Peter

As it turned out, Angie was also thinking about Peter at that very moment...

The signs of clinical depression can take many forms and I'm sorry, but this is not one of them. Not by any stretch of the liver. Deep down, though, I'm sure that Angie really missed Peter. So did I, which made me wonder who was cooking for Peter.

I know, I know. He looks sadder than a bastard on Father's day. At least eating crickets and tree bark for a week might make him appreciate Papa's cooking. Hey, maybe I should send Angie on a safari.

I do like that he ordered a beer to wash down his antelope steak and alligator nuggets. His thoughtful consideration almost brought me to tears. I was so moved, in fact, that I performed an ancient African ritual that is supposed to bring back lost children.

I don't actually know any African rituals, so I tried to wing it by sacrificing a virgin, followed by a tribal dance to wake the dead. There were at least two faults with my master plan, though. The first was, Angie is not a virgin. After three children, this should not really come as a shock to any of you. The second problem was, I can't boogie. After seeing me on a dance floor, this should not come as a shock to any of you, either. Disco, techno, tribal... forget it!

In the end we did not manage to wake the dead and bring home our runaway child. We did, however, manage to wake the neighbors and it was clear by their emotions that they missed Peter as well.

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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I played in the pool with Barbara.
David: When I played with Alessio's by pirate party 'cause he had a party.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I couldn't hear the story with the hyenas.
David: When I can't not play with Alessio no more 'cause I are going.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: I want to look at the animals.
David: Play with Mama 'cause Peter not here now.

Peter goes to Africa

What you see here is Peter preparing for his trip to Africa by showing Dil his beloved 'animal journal'. That's right - Africa. For Christmas, Opa promised Peter a vacation to anywhere he wanted to go. Peter chose an African safari and completely shot to hell any hopes I might have had at giving him a cool vacation in the next ten years. Disneyland sucks, Dad.

The morning started out like any given day; Mama was making Tommy cry and David was prancing about in a robe with power tools. What? That's normal, isn't it?

While Destructo Dave was off drilling holes into our cat or God only knows what, I ran a bath for the globe trotter. Apparently, Peter was so excited about getting clean for the locals in Namibia that he somehow forgot to remove his shirt before jumping in. Man, that is one excited moron.

It will be Peter's first time ever being away from Mama and Papa. Sure, he's had the occasional sleepover where he's called up crying a little girl for Papa to bring him his coveted bunny, but he's never been gone longer than one night. And, let me just state for Angie's record that I will not be jumping on any damn flights to Africa if Peter suddenly discovers that he is missing anything life-shattering like his snuggle bunny. I seriously doubt it, though, because this time, unlike the last, I supervised Angie's packing of his safari kit. Once bitten, twice stupid.

I have to say, Peter didn't appear to be that sad about saying goodbye to his family.

Maybe it was the lollipop. Or the headbutt that he had received this morning from Tom or that David had found a pair of scissors and decided to cut the tail off of Peter's favorite snake. Doesn't matter, though; he seemed genuinely unsad. Happy, actually and if I'm honest like I always am - ecstatic. Angie was finding it a bit difficult to see how easily Peter could leave the nest, but I think I helped console her with my parting comments. Yeah, whatever, bird - ba-bye. Come back in the spring.

At least we could take comfort that Barb was joining the safari. I can't dwell on that thought too long, though, because I've seen her on good nights. Enough said?

It was a night flight, so we ignored concepts like 'traffic' and left for the airport with exactly enough time to get there. By doing so, we arrived with exactly enough time to park, check in and board.

I can normally read people fairly well, so I could tell Opa was getting a little nervous when we tried parking. We pulled up next to a car that was parallel parked in the middle of two open spots and effectively blocking both of them. The couple inside were busy scrutinizing a map and oblivious to my revving the gas as a subtle sign for them to move their ass into one of the two spots they were hogging.

In a move that still impresses me, Opa simultaneously honked the horn, rolled down his window, whistled, frantically pointed at the line that clearly divided the two parking spots, and somehow managed to still make the 'coo coo crazy' sign with one finger as he shouted at the perplexed driver. And Peter learned a new word.

I'd probably have gone with a different tactic, but since time was of the essence, I have to agree that this was the most effective way of securing a parking spot, which also ensured a successful departure.

The curious parking incident was followed by a mad dash for the ticket counter. It was at this point that I tried to say ba-bye to my little bird.

It was hard to let go, but I wasn't about to induce another vein-popping episode by holding up the flight crew any further. I had time for one quick photo and one long hug good-bye. It just wasn't long enough.
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Ladder Talk:
[Peter finally came down from his happy high and conked out on the plane before Barb could do Ladder Talk]
1) What was the best part of your day?
David: When I picked the flowers today for you.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
David: When Peter is gone and I can't not play pirate ship all by me self.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
David: To play with you tomorrow.

I'm an excellent father

Peter has been bugging the crap out of me to go play darts with him ever since I told him that I won the World Professional Darts Championship. I didn't of course, but I've told him plenty of things that aren't true. Like that time I told him how awesome his hair looked after Mama Scissorhands attacked his head.

Part of being a good parent is being able to lie to your children. Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, shitty haircuts and bragging about yourself are all just in day's work. The embarrassing part comes when your five-year old son hits a bull's eye on his third dart and asks you why you haven't managed to hit one yet. Yo, barkeep! I'm gonna need a double over here.

Peter impressed and amazed me with his dart skills. Next week I plan to teach him table soccer and billiards will most certainly follow. Peter is not only my son; he is also a friend. As such, he needs to start now with learning everything there is to do in a pub. When he turns 14, Angie won't find us for weeks. Yes, I said 14. In Germany, you have to be 16 to drink beer and wine and 18 for the hard stuff. If you are 14, you are allowed to drink, as long as you are with a parent or responsible guardian. Luckily, I'm both.

After lugging darts and chugging Fanta all night, Peter just wanted to vegetate in front of the TV. He gets this from Mama.

Following the social atmosphere of the pub, I could not allow him to watch TV alone. We arranged for a neighborhood watch instead, which David apparently liked. He also liked my comments about his new and interesting haircut that Mama had given him. To round things off, I told Tom that his diaper smelled like roses. Definitely an excellent father.
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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I play darts with you and I play better as you.
David: When Chiara come over and she play with me.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I couldn't look with Mommy football because you make me go in bed.
David: When Alessio he go home and not play with me no more.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To draw with Nil pictures of pirates.
David: To play with Carlotta.