The Longbored Surfer

Cecilia recently complained about an earache. She's been swimming almost daily for a month, and I imagine she might just have some mild swimmer's ear… or maybe one of her dozens of dead rollie polies/pillbugs got out of its jar and climbed in there. Who knows? As I was thinking about my options of how to take care of her, I picked up and started looking at the newest Lego catalog. Noticing my diversion, she pointed out that “Looking at Lego's isn't going to help my ear.” You're right. My bad. Back to you.

It's the Year of MMIX, and you need to be making a mix. We've already talked about this. I don't just want say you need to make a mix, but I've now spun up the first disc to get this party started… or jam session. It's just shy of six months since I created the previous G2 album, but I'm back with another. Breaking from the norm, this album has less to do with my love for my wife, but more to do with a theme of music. I really aimed for music one could just chill out, lounge around, put this album on, sip a drink, enjoy some conversation and good company… and be perfect. Additionally, it'd be something that I think I could play if/when Maria and I sit out on the deck in the evenings together.

While one of them frequently opts not to finish her desserts (and today said she was done chewing a piece of gum after no more than 2 minutes), the other is a pure junk food junkie. Unlike the song, Becky has no intentions of pretending that she likes anything else. She'll finish her meal (meaning she'll finish eating the parts that she wants, mashing around the parts she doesn't want, and looking at disgust at anything in between), then in her sweetest, nicest voice request cookies, cake, jellybeans, candy, juice, strawberries, bread and cheese.

She'll get quieter and keep smiling as her requests proceed. Don't be deceived by those requests for strawberries, bread and cheese, since she'll probably make her way back to the cookies, jellybeans, cake and candy… and probably some fruitsnacks. The other day I got a text message from Maria with the following:

Becky snuck a chunk of cake this morning. “Cake, num num!” is a nice give-away that you're eating some.

Turns out Becky had inched the cake platter closer to the edge of the counter, broke through the plastic wrap on the plate, and grabbed herself a fistful of cake. She might have gotten away with it had she not advertised her actions (though the Mini-Mayor, Cecilia, would have ratted her out in another .001 seconds).

Just this morning she got busted rifling through Maria's purse and shoving as many Altoids into her mouth as she could (the spearmint kind). I'm going out on my own here and saying that although Becky's self-soothing as a baby made her a much easier baby, she's so much more mischievous, audacious and selectively hard of hearing that her toddler tendencies are far more difficult to deal with than Cecilia. She's still incredibly lovable and fun to be around… as long as you're willing to bribe her with some candy.

Two quick stories. The girls were headed to the dollar theater today for a cheap activity. It happened to be near lunchtime when they were supposed to go. After Cecilia was told the plan, she opined that she would like to eat lunch at the theater itself. Only too aware of the utter waste of money that would be, Maria told her it costs too much money to eat there. Cecilia, in her obvious state of being a spoiled child, informed her, “It will be okay, Mom. Dad has a lot of money.” Right. A lot of money. And you're going to the dollar theater, on a gift card. Rollin' in the dough.

Becky is talking quite a bit. She doesn't necessarily make a lot of sense, but she's talking a lot. She'll tell you all about her fancy toenails and how Grammy painted them. And if that's not enough, she'll tell you again before you leave. And once more as you're leaving.

We have a little container of orange Tic Tacs in the car. The girls really like them, but Becky can't pronounce the name of them. When she asks for one, it sounds more like she's saying (pardon the language) “I wanna kick ass!” Because Maria and I both find it humorous, we'll deny the initial request, only to make her repeat it – which any child her age will do… over and over and over again, until satisfied. “Kick @ss! Kick a$$! Kick @$$!” Nice.

Cecilia may think I have so much money I can use $100 bills as tissues… but I have Becky trained to be a warrior, willing to do whatever it takes to get the goods.