When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Blog-onade

This week, the kids were in the car on their way to school. They buckled themselves but Belle, 6, didn't close her door on the sedan all the way. When Belle's mom pulled out of the garage, the door flung open and speared the side of the garage! The glass shattered and there was $2,000 worth of damage.

"Oops," Belle said.

Fortunately, everyone was OK. When my wife called me, I was taking my mother to the hospital for surgery out of town. I told my mom that the car v. garage accident was "All part of our elaborate plan to make you forget about your surgery!"

"It worked," my mom said.

We hired people to fix the car and the garage door, but I got creative fixing the drywall in the garage--I simply used one of Belle's stuffed animals for insulation:

We're expecting an energy-efficiency rebate from Uncle Sam any day now.

Today, my son John, 4, wore his black pirate hat and took out his telescope and declared, "Argh, I'm a pirate."

"OK, Pirate John," my wife said.

"Don't call me pirate--my name is John," he said.

"Do you have to go potty, John?" my wife said.

"Pirates don't go potty," John said.

"Do they wet their pants?" I asked. No wonder they had so many diseases.

"No," John said. "They sit down and say, 'Man overboard!'"

I'd hate to be in the row boat when that happens.

While I'm sure Belle would have LOVED to make her brother walk the plank, she was too busy being Rudolph and trying to perform a timeless Christmas carol. But even that went awry:

It was a tough week--dealing with a surgery, a car crash, home damage, a pirate who won't go potty and deer with a droopy nose--but we made the most of it. It's good to see the kids picking up on this outlook. For example, Belle's friend was sucking on ice from her drink. Belle said, "What are you doing?"

"Sucking ice," the friend said.

"Oh, OK," Belle said. "I won't tell anyone you suck."


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De-Pants'ed in McDonalds

I have a most eventful family vacation to share with you.

So my wife and I drive from Wisconsin to New York with our daughter, Belle, 3, and our son, Johnny, 2. The first thing that happens on this 22-hour sojourn (uphill over the Poconos both ways) is that we get rear-ended. We yield--the other motorist doesn't. She smashes into the back of our minivan.

Our Sienna is drivable and nobody is hurt, thank God. But we can't open the rear latch the ENTIRE TRIP.
We had packed everything we needed the most near the rear latch. I think I might have been better off dead.

I'm kidding, off course, because had I died, I wouldn't have gotten to enjoy my children getting the flu en route, barfing during stop-and-go construction. Happy Father's Day!

On Father's Day, Belle says, "Daddy, I love you because you fix my stuff." Unfortunately, I can't fix her flu. When we see our relatives, Belle walks in and says, "We were in a BIG car accident. How do you like my new shoes?"

But times like these are supposed to make you appreciate what's truly important, right? I think Belle's getting the hang of it. To wit:

"We have to take care of Johnny," Belle says. "Because he's my only brother. If we lost him, we'd have to buy a new one!"

We have fun on the trip, though. Belle loves wearing her fancy silver dress during her Aunt Jessie's wedding:
And little Johnny gets the Academy Award for Best Impression of Tony Soprano:
But it's great seeing family. And who can't enjoy 10 stops at McDonald's?


Let's face it, when you have two kids under age four in the car for 44 hours--including four hours in a lightning storm/flash flood near Chicago--you have to get the kids all the exercise in PlayPlace they can get.

Even if it means choking down another Happy Meal. So I order the fast food and I'm walking toward PlayPlace in McDonald's holding two drinks. Belle comes running up to me yelling, "Daddy, pick me up! Pick me up!" Before I can explain that I can't while holding drinks, she jumps up and grabs me around the waist with her arms and legs. I'm wearing jogging pants and boxers. So when Belle slides down my waist and legs like a firefighter, my McPants and McUnderwear go with her.

There I am, de-pants'ed in McDonald's. I'm not "loving it." A random grandma and four kids go screaming into PlayPlace.

Does Belle apologize? No. She says, "Daddy, I have to go potty."

So we retreat to the men's bathroom. It's small, so there's just one urinal and one stall. There's a man peeing in the urinal but the stall's open, so I take Belle in there.

"Daddy, I'm a girl, so I don't use a urinal," Belle says.

"That's right," I say.

Urinal Man chuckles.

"I'm a girl, so I use the potty," Belle continues.

"Uh-huh."

"And when I become a boy, I'll use a urinal."

Now Urinal Man is downright cackling.

"And when I turn back into a girl, then I'll use a potty again."

The things kids learn on vacation.