Boyo's Favourite Cartoon

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First Day Back

Today is Monday. It is the first day of school for 2010. We were late. (Fabulous start to the new year.)
    The alarm didn't go off at all this morning (not that we set it, mind you) and I came-to at 8:26. I closed one eye and half squinted at the clock on the night stand. 8:26. Crap.
    Get up! Scurrying began. I slapped the iPod and Carol King prompted us with "I Feel The Earth Move." I turned it up. Let's go-let's go-let's go! We hopped into our clothes and scrambled down for breakfast. Stuff your faces. Let's go! I made two piles of winter gear on the floor by the front door, then I booted it back to the kitchen to make the snacks. (Snacks? We never needed a snack at school. What's up with that?) I returned. They weren't dressed. C'mon-c'mon-c'mon! I grabbed Boyo and stuffed him into his gear. Wrestling to get him into his leggings, he said: "Dad, stop—your breath smells worse than my poo!"
    We arrived at school with a couple of spare minutes (it's a 200-metre walk). I sent The Bug off to her class and escorted Boyo to his. Done. And now I'm at the coffee (tea) shop.

Happy New Year, my droogies, happy New Year.

Do people say to you (or do you say): "Happy New Years" instead of "Happy New Year?" Honestly, I'm pretty sure there's only one at a time.

Our Xmas Card

Bah! Hum-bug.

Christmas cards... sheesh! I've been making my own for over a decade and mailing them to every person I could think of. Honestly, we've been sending out 60—or more—cards every year and we don't get many in return. Never more than a dozen or so.
    Another holiday mailing season is officially over and we received a whopping seven cards. Seven.
    Where's my holiday spirit, you ask? It's lost somewhere in my printing bill. I know, I'm over-reacting, but I just want some xmas-card love. Is that too much to ask?

Thick Head

Ugh. My head.
It's 6 o'clock in the evening, two days before Christmas and I can barely breathe through this stuffed-up head of mine.
    Everything's been going along just fine. Monday, Boyo and I helped a neighbour move some heavy things while The Bug was off to a friend's house. I got a nice bottle of ice wine for my efforts. Tuesday, I had five kids over for hours of outdoor play. I made a vat of hot chocolate and set up the hockey net and donned the goalie gear. Later that night, I joined a couple of friends for a glass of Christmas cheer. Today, the kids and I met a neighbourhood mom and her kids for breakfast at a fine greasy spoon. The mom and I sat at on our own and we set our combined four kids up at their own table, and how well behaved they were.
    Tomorrow, the in-laws descend for three days and I need to be back on my feet. So far, I'm dizzy and rather thick in the head. We're in for eleven guests on Christmas Eve day and I can hardly move. Boy, do I ever need some nighttime-sniffling-sneezing-aching-coughing-stuffy-head-fever-so-you-can-rest medicine. And it's got "rum-and-eggnog" written all over it.

He Writes the Songs

Boyo was singing a song just before supper last night that he made up--not only on his own, but also on the fly:

[To the tune of the Scooby theme song.]
Chicken noodle soup
Where are you?
I've got some food to eat now
Come on chicken soup
I eat you
'Cause I'm hungry and it's supper.

Pure gold.