Abby has an itchy part on her leg. Nevermind the obvious observation that she has some form of eczema.
She was in a hot bath and it was tingling painfully.
After quite a few minutes she announced loudly
DADDY!
Yes
My leg is all the way under the water and it doesn’t tingle any more.
Great.
Yeah. Not even one ting.
My weight is going down a little to approx 185 lbs. (down about 10)
My speed on the bike is going up, I can average about 14.8 in the 16.5 miles between home and the office, getting there in about 68 minutes.
And lastly, my typing speed in Dvorak has just crested another milestone as seen here.
Here it is, you’ve asked for it, pictures. (Be careful what you wish for.)
Without further ado lets start with the princess series.
Angela, after devouring many books on the subject of Disneyland knew just where to go and just what to do for the ideal experience. This does not mean that we hammered every nail into every board to maximize the experience. Rather, we had a short list of MUST SEE’s and dinner at Ariel’s Grotto was at the top of that list.
Ang set up camp on the waiting list early, because 1 month before our arrival the dinner was booked. We couldn’t promise Abby we could get in but the neat thing was we were the last ones to visit with Ariel before starting dinner.
Then throughout dinner other princesses pleased the crowd.
The fairy godmother didn’t have the same general appeal.
This night Belle was in her ball gown, later we would see her in her everyday frock.
And lastly, one of the favorites, Cinderella.
Emma, was a little shell-shocked by the attention and glam in those early hours, but as you will likely see another day, she warmed up to it all.
It may seem insignificant and small but you try screwing a plastic valve stem cap down so hard onto your bike inner tube that the stem pushes clean through the top of the cap.
It isn’t so much that I broke it, you know – it’s plastic, it’s thin, it’s old. (Not that there is anything wrong with that.)
Rather it is how I broke it;
I was scooping out sugar and the handle just snapped!
The sugar must have felt it was being attacked.
So recently Abby has had a thing with fire.
A little scared of it
It’s in the lights!
And a little intrigued by it
Why is it hot?
But mostly highly aware of fire ever since the local fire department visited her school to “teach” fire awareness.
I am somewhat curious about their tactics; instilling a fear that isn’t called for. Respect? Yes. Understanding? Great. But straight up fear? That is typically only useful for parents and large governments.
But, that’s not why we’re here. We are here tonight because Abby approached Angela after watching a PBS Kids special on firefighters and said
When I grow up I wanna be a firefighter.
Can you say “U-Turn”? I can’t imagine what I would have said. But I wouldn’t have had the chance anyway because after a deliberate pause she followed up with
Wanna know why?
Yeah! Why?
Because I love those clothes!
As she explained to me later
Because of the booooots and the helmet and the pants and the coat and the….the…THE Mask! and the scuba tank.
I love those clothes.
[thinking to myself] I wonder when I break it to her that the clothes are there to KEEP the HOT fire OUT and firefighters get REALLY dirty and sooty.
Then she whispers to me with a hand alongside her cheek all sneaky-like
But first I am gonna be Madison.
I will let her figure it out for herself.
While installing my new amplified TV antenna I simply snapped off one of the antenna ‘ears’ at the base.
The good news is that my years of experience breaking things has helped me quickly look for the resources to make the repair.
I was able to remove one of the antenna ears from the older non-amplified antenna and install it in the same place. Now with one silver and one black antenna ear I have a piebald antenna.
While arranging the ears for maximum tunage, I noticed that the remaining new antenna ear is a likely candidate for a future “things I have broken” post so I am keeping the old antenna for now as a resource for a full retrofit.
By the way, there is not enough space on this blog, let alone enough time in my day, to include the “things I have saved that I never use again” category, so don’t bother with any requests of that nature.
So we were enjoying another dinner together and I needed some spice.
Abby, can you pass the pepper please?
No.
Excuse me?
No thank you? I don’t want to.
Okay, so this answer has the breath of some things we teach Abby:
* be polite
* be honest
* let us know when you don’t want to participate.
The fine line between not wanting to participate and simply accommodating a micro-request is still, for her, a little gray. While I may have been taken aback I was also bemused and I retorted with a twinge of sarcasm.
You can’t put your fork down and hand me the pepper?
no [almost imperceptibly]
[with a bit more sarcasm and a wry smile]
Can you move it with your mind then?
I thought that was the final word and I prepared to get the pepper myself but with a twitch of her eyebrow and a small tremble of effort Abby fleetingly engaged the inanimate pepper mill with her formidable mind. Turning to me she answered decisively and honestly.
No.
[after the laughter started she laughed with us and continued]
I can’t!
I have to remember that sarcasm is still a few years away, but the interplay between adult sarcasm and children’s honesty may be ninety percent of the content for child humor columns, so I keep at it.
Recognizing the actual effort of her attempt, I reached the pepper myself.
She likes me retelling this story.
I almost t-boned a truck on my recumbent whilst riding out of the north end of the market this AM.
OK that is overstating just a bit, I had plenty of stopping time because I saw him darting between the cars, the parked cars.
You might say
Wait a minute. Did he say Truck, Darting, and Parked Cars in the same breath?
The answer is yes. I am low enough that the delivery driver didn’t see me as he exited the storefront and darted quickly across the street with his unloaded hand-truck.
Which I would have t-boned, if I wasn’t paying attention.
I am giggling about it now because I think I scared him. I recently had new brake pads installed and when I hit my rear brake it yelped and squealed loud…like a frightened dog. I think he got one of those pinched off, mini-squirts of adrenaline that could body-double as your morning coffee.
It is really loud too and I tested it at the very next intersection. I used it like a horn for a car whose driver was looking the other way…her head snapped around when I gave an extra squeeze on my dual purpose horn-brake.
That really tickles me.
Abby has the gift of gab.
Every line we stood in that was longer than 20 minutes ended with a goodbye to a new friend.
All but one line ended in a ride or a meal.
Two lines ended in new toys.
* The girl in front of us on Space Mountain gave Abby her (whale) dolphin.
* A woman in front of us on Toads Adventure gifted Abby a small Tinkerbell for her pocket.
Four Japanese girls on holiday wearing Minnie, Mickey, Goofy, and Tigger ears thought Abby looked like Dakota Fanning and took their pictures with her, teaching her the Japanese word for cute.
But some of the best gifts were untouchable.
On the first day Abby was startled and scared by the menacing characters of her first indoor Disneyland ride, Pinocchio. At the end of the ride, she was crying pretty hard. Alison, an attendant at the end of the ride heard her crying and asked us what happened. She immediately gave us the lowdown on the remaining rides, Peter Pan and Snow White. Then she took the step that makes Disneyland real. She said,
Abigail? Do you like Peter Pan?
Yes [between sobs]
Well why don’t you come with me and let’s take a ride on the flying ship with Peter Pan and Tinkerbell.
Alison proceeded to take us up to the exit and straight onto Peter Pan without the 30 minute delay of the rest of the line. And when we were done with that we were told we had a spot in Snow White if we wanted. Abby was good after Peter Pan and didn’t ride Snow White until the last day but Alison made an impression on Ang and I.
Abby is particularly fond of Ariel, Snow White, and Cinderella but now Alice in Wonderland has a special place. On day four, we saw Alice and The Mad Hatter dashing across the plaza, grabbing attention and navigating small children and strollers. Abby saw her and I encouraged her to run over and “catch her up”.
She did, and after the brief hug and picture that followed Abby just stood there and watched the next kids getting autographs and the requisite clever quips in Madhatterese.
Every time Alice looked towards Abby, Abby waved.
One woman, whose daughter was waiting patiently behind Abby encouraged Abby to take her turn. Abby said
I already did.
Oh, I thought…well…but you kept on waving at her.
Alice heard the exchange and turned to the woman and said,
Because she’s my friend.
Abby and I looked at each other with wide eyes.
[matter of factly]I’m her friend.
You sure are honey.
Shortly, her purposeful lingering was further rewarded. Abby was approached by the Mad Hatter this time and then Alice joined in for a 2-3 minute conversation about tea cups and riddles and other things Wonderland. Considering the other pressures on their time that may as well have been an evening dinner.
It was real and all because she was her friend.
blief 