Every now and then Zach refuses to go quietly to sleep at night, despite our best parental efforts, and Luke is begging for some relief so he can get some shut-eye. So on nights like those, I carry Zach out to the balcony in back, he sits in my lap on a chair, and we look up at the stars and watch for planes. It's at this point that I always start thinking about the Hollywood Ending: In the Hollywood Ending to this story, Zach would curl up against my chest and drift slowly off to sleep, with his golden tufts of hair gently swaying in the nighttime breeze. In the real ending, I sit there listening to endless variations on, "What happened to the eyeball balloon? I think it's a little bit mushed. The eyeball balloon is mushed. What happened to the eyeball balloon? It got a little bit mushed," and so on, ad infinitum. I wonder exactly what the neighbors think is going on over at our house.
I've had the good fortune of spending two days in Luke's kindergarten classroom this week. The first time was for a Thanksgiving feast that they held for all three kindergarten classes. It was an amazing organizational effort - 60 five- and six-year-olds, dressed like Indians and Pilgrims, all seated outside at placemats, with individual meals cooked to order (You wanted mustard on your turkey sandwich? And no muffin? And extra cranberry sauce? Here you go.) Luke was a little disappointed that they mistook his order for a "plain" sandwich to mean plain turkey, as opposed to just plain
bread, which is what he really wanted.
This week they are obviously focused on Thanksgiving, and the kids were instructed to bring in a picture of something they were thankful for. I asked Luke what one of the girls had brought in to share, and he told me somewhat dejectedly, "Oh, she just drew a picture of her family and her friends who are girls." What's wrong with that? I asked. "Well, she didn't even really get to know me, and she doesn't know how cool and fancy I am." We were in the middle of dinner at that point, and Dave and I nearly choked on the "cool and fancy" line, but now that I think about it, I love that he thinks of himself as cool
and fancy.
This week also marked another holiday tradition: the annual downtown open house and pier lighting, complete with reindeer and free champagne. Mom and Dad have been here for the open house for the past few years, and we were sad not to have them with us this time, but Suzi and Bill offered to come and we gladly welcomed the company.
Odd new traditions for this year included blingy light-up rings for everyone, (including moms), and semi-naked dancers at the premium denim store (where jeans cost $150/pair and up). Luke was mystified by the dancers ("Why would anyone want to dance naked in front of glass in front of people?") but the dancers were seemingly charmed by Zach. One of them stopped her dance to give him a little wave.
All was more or less right with the world until we came out with gingerbread cookies from the Skechers store. I made the mistake of breaking off the gingerbread man's foot to hand to Zach, and he completely flipped out ("Don't break the man! Put the foot back on!") to the point where he was completely inconsolable about the foot-less cookie. Not even hot chocolate or spiced cider could save the situation. I kept hoping for a Hollywood ending or even possibly a Larry David ending ("Look - here comes a man with Christmas-themed eyeball balloons!") but there was no such luck, except to get more cookies. Which was fine, except he didn't get to sleep too easily that night, and we found ourselves out on the balcony yet again.
I've had the good fortune of spending two days in Luke's kindergarten classroom this week. The first time was for a Thanksgiving feast that they held for all three kindergarten classes. It was an amazing organizational effort - 60 five- and six-year-olds, dressed like Indians and Pilgrims, all seated outside at placemats, with individual meals cooked to order (You wanted mustard on your turkey sandwich? And no muffin? And extra cranberry sauce? Here you go.) Luke was a little disappointed that they mistook his order for a "plain" sandwich to mean plain turkey, as opposed to just plain bread, which is what he really wanted.
This week they are obviously focused on Thanksgiving, and the kids were instructed to bring in a picture of something they were thankful for. I asked Luke what one of the girls had brought in to share, and he told me somewhat dejectedly, "Oh, she just drew a picture of her family and her friends who are girls." What's wrong with that? I asked. "Well, she didn't even really get to know me, and she doesn't know how cool and fancy I am." We were in the middle of dinner at that point, and Dave and I nearly choked on the "cool and fancy" line, but now that I think about it, I love that he thinks of himself as cool and fancy.
This week also marked another holiday tradition: the annual downtown open house and pier lighting, complete with reindeer and free champagne. Mom and Dad have been here for the open house for the past few years, and we were sad not to have them with us this time, but Suzi and Bill offered to come and we gladly welcomed the company. 
Odd new traditions for this year included blingy light-up rings for everyone, (including moms), and semi-naked dancers at the premium denim store (where jeans cost $150/pair and up). Luke was mystified by the dancers ("Why would anyone want to dance naked in front of glass in front of people?") but the dancers were seemingly charmed by Zach. One of them stopped her dance to give him a little wave.
All was more or less right with the world until we came out with gingerbread cookies from the Skechers store. I made the mistake of breaking off the gingerbread man's foot to hand to Zach, and he completely flipped out ("Don't break the man! Put the foot back on!") to the point where he was completely inconsolable about the foot-less cookie. Not even hot chocolate or spiced cider could save the situation. I kept hoping for a Hollywood ending or even possibly a Larry David ending ("Look - here comes a man with Christmas-themed eyeball balloons!") but there was no such luck, except to get more cookies. Which was fine, except he didn't get to sleep too easily that night, and we found ourselves out on the balcony yet again.
No comments:
Post a Comment