The boy and I went to see the new Looney Tunes movie today. We were both amused. I suspect I appreciated more than he the surfeit of shots focused tightly on Jenna Elfman’s tight buns and long legs. She spent the vast majority of the movie in miniskirts and shorts. I guess that’s how they got the PG rating.
As for the rest of the movie (yes I did notice other things), it was pretty funny and goofy. It’s pretty much what you would expect from a Looney Tunes live action movie, but with a stupendous number of inside jokes. Ralph is hanging out with the sheep and wolf, the frog sings, “Hello my baby” and so on. At four, Alex laughed at many places, but I laughed at many more. I think it’s safe to assume the movie was written for folks who are adults but remember the 90 minutes every Saturday spent watching Wile E. Coyote blowing himself up with shoddy Acme products. And for the women, Brendan Fraser flexes a lot.
Alex was at the sink last night, after brushing teefies, and wanted to look in the mirror for some ineffable reason. So he stood up real tall on his tiptoes and looked in the mirror. This may seem like a rather silly thing to notice, but he needed help to see the mirror just two months ago. I look at him and he’s a little boy, not a little toddler. When did that happen?
I’m spending weekends up in Tucson now, in case you were wondering about email pauses.
But, I do have new pictures up. New Alex photos, some from the park up here that he enjoys running around.
Life is good, although I hate watching so many of my coworkers looking at layoff notices and scrambling to find jobs. I’ve got to get out of the government-support nonsense. No private citizen can get away with not paying his bills when they’re due, but the federal government breaks the due date for a budget every freakin’ year. Odd.
current_music:
current_mood: tired
Talking with a social worker, preparing for my eventual adoption of the adorable Alex, the woman asks us to describe our personalities. I have always hated being put on the spot by such off-the-wall questions, much like Barbara Walters asking what kind of tree one might be. Here’s how I wanted to answer, but figured would freak her out:
I’m an artist, author, poet, music aficionado, literati, intellectual, sarcastic and cynical observer of the human condition. I’m a lover, a husband, a father. I’m a liberal libertarian who questions everything and believes nothing. I think the worst of the deadly sins is sloth.
Never say what you want to say, instead stick with the simple and safe statements they want to hear. 🙂
Quote of the night: Love is not kind or honest, and does not contribute to happiness in any reliable way. – Alice Munro
current_music: Barenaked Ladies – Falling for the First Time
current_mood: pensive
The boy has been repeating the tagline from the latest Carl’s Jr commercial all through dinner.
Doan bodda mee, I’m eating!
current_mood: amused
Last Edit: 05 Aug 2005 @ 07:24 AM
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Walking back from the mailbox, the boy sees a big person, who he points out as a “guy.” After being told this was, in fact, a “girl,” he decides to be a mac baby.
“Hug girl. Kisses girl.”
Oh, geez, won’t he be fun in 15 years…
current_music:
current_mood: amused
Potty training is so much fun.
Not only did the boy have trouble informing me before he had to pee today, he found a way to pee the bed while not asleep. Not his bed, of course – mine. One minute he’s happily toddling along the hallway and stairs, next he’s crying on my bed while three small puddles expand. Combined with the erping-up of the other day, and he’s had plenty of clean clothes lately, although we’ve not quite gotten around to doing our own laundry…
I’m still trying to figure out how he did it. How do you make three different pee puddles on the bed, yet have only the smallest of wet spots on your own pants?
To make the evening complete, he proceeded to pee himself at dinner, not 30 seconds after I’d asked if he needed to go to the bathroom. Love potty training…
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