Like you don't...

...Put on your rubber boots with your t-shirt and underwear.

I don't want to slip climbing up the stool!

But, I think Mom wears them because she doesn't want to slip while cleaning.

Just kidding. That's ridiculous: Mom wears heels to clean!

Daddy Dearest

We had a lovely day with Dad for Dad's Day. All thanks to me.

Truly I am amazing.

Mom made banana bacon waffles, which were delicious. And we got to relax and enjoy the day.

It was a good precursor to Brian Day... Which involved a whole lot of cake. And a lot of chanting (for cake). And a lot of spelling of cake: C-A-K-E cake cake cake.
And the candles. Love me some candles.
What do you mean I'm not the one who's supposed to be blowing them out? Nonsense. They're a fire hazard, you know.
And we sang the birthday song approximately 27 times.

Incidentally, I did get some good practice eating cake at my friend Ella's bday earlier in the month. She had a Nemo cake and a bouncy house -- at this awesome place called the Monkey Room. We hadn't been there in almost a year, and I have spent 3 weeks telling Mom how fun it was. (Mom is starting to suspect she and Dad may have to step up the Marcus Day festivities a notch...)

Nemo cake's unfortunate brown reefs on the side tasted good.
Their appearance was a little disconcerting, though...

normal sized bite

flip-top-head sized bite

Mom and I made Dad some very nice cards for Dad's birthday. Mine had, you guessed it, cake that popped out when opened. And a little ditty in honor of Dad:

At last it’s here

You’ve made it a whole extra year

To 35

You’re still alive

(And kicking)

Amazing, in my opinion

But I am Mom’s minion

On Brian Day

I We want to say

We love you

For all you are and all you do

In 365 days

Things change in so many ways:

  A little taller

    Maybe not

  A little wiser

    Possibly

  A little greyer

    Definitely

You’re the best dad

At least, that I’ve ever had

Mom’s favorite spouse

(Don’t snoop under the house)

You make us smile

So we’ll keep you awhile

Let’s get our kicks

Only until you’re 36

Just kidding

You’ll always be mine*

Even when you’re 99

Happy birthday

We love you

* We mean “our’s”

GOOOOAAAALLLL!

SoccerTots started in March, and my first season wrapped up a couple weeks ago. It was a ton of fun and Coach Kenny should probably be sainted or knighted or lobotomized. We had a lot of fun but there was a strong semblance to cat herding at times. There were also a few meltdowns from my soccer buddies -- everyone has a bad day... It was infinitely entertaining to both us and and our moms (or dad): High knees means goose stepping, right? Jump means gallop? ... And a little frustrating at times: Rue the day I ever met that red balloon; and "stuff in my shoe!" 

Toe touching is much easier when you bend your knees. 

Most of us know our colors...

Balance

Footwork

Agility.
Or perfecting the flop.
I'll never tell.

Speed

Trophy!

Overall, it was a fantastic experience, and I really missed it during the off week. Thankfully the summer session started last week, and I'm playing on Wednesday and Saturdays now! All the more opportunity for  Mom or Dad to yell GOOOAAAAALLLLL.

WANTED: MIA elephant

It is a sad day. I discovered that Cordy is missing. I'm not sure if he ran away, is playing an outstanding game of hide-and-seek, or horrors was abandoned somewhere.
Have you seen him?

XOXOXO REWARD OFFERED

Cordy is roughly 11" tall, blue, and made of corduroy. And I will run around screaming, "Want Cordy" and "Cordy, where ah yoo?" until he returns.
Please help me find him.

Pop goes the...

...Splinter.

Yeah. Maybe not quite as zesty as the original song, but...

You may recall my mentioning the splinter that stowawayed in my tushy. It yielded a 3 sticker appointment with Herr Doctor.

Marcus: 3, Dr. Hales: 0
No idea who that baby is.
Or why (s)he's eating the stethoscope.

I won that battle, as I ended up with all those stickers, and he failed to retrieve the splinter. He thought part of it came out, but in hindsight (punny!), he was mistaken.

Now we reach the juncture of this post where it gets all Choose-Your-Own Adventure on you. Things may be crossing the line into the realm of TMI. So either play it safe with option 1 or hop aboard this trainwreck with option 2...

Option 1
Dad held me down while Mom vanquished the splinter (exhibit A). It was a festive Saturday night. I am recovering nicely.

Option 2
Fast forward another 2 weeks and my tush still hadn't healed. I staunchly refused Mom's intervention offers/attempts (aside from antiseptic spray and Neosporin) -- Dr. Hales told her not to let the wound close back up. Mom effectively kicked the hornets' nest with some vigorous scrubbing one night, and, after a day of festering, I was pretty upset. Realizing that it was time to take matters into her own hands (with Dad's hands restraining me), she followed the doctor's example and popped what-had-become-a-giant-splinter-boil. First squeeze was pretty gross -- it was infected. Second squeeze yielded the shard of wood above (really, the picture doesn't do it justice*). It came shooting out like a greased log down a flume. Mom was horrified. I was shrieking. Dad was confused.
Well, that's par for the course.
(Just kidding, Dad... Besides, without your help, there wouldn't be any pictures.)
I'm doing much better (hooray!), but Mom suspects that this story may not be completely over.

 "Booboo on butt" really is fun to say. Quite the tongue twister if you say it a bunch of times really fast.

* Don't worry, we've saved it to put in this year's scrapbook. Bet you can't wait until my baby teeth start falling out.

Mama Day

 

Happy Mother's Day to all my special ladies. You know who you are.
And in case you didn't get my card yet, here's a sneak preview (with outtakes).

Roses are red.


Orchids* are blue.


I love Moms.


Especially YOU!

*umm, we're taking some creative license

N is so overrated

I have recently expanded my repertoire of party tricks to include the ABCs. It's a fabulous little ditty. Perhaps you've heard it before?

I sometimes include all the letters. Sometimes not. Mostly, I just don't like N. At least today. Today, N is a silly, superfluous letter.
Unless it's in one of these:

In which case, there are Ns AND Ms.

Yeah, you probably think that's bike rack. You and Mom are so wrong.