If It Ain't Broke, It Ain't Mine

Anybody got a screwdriver? A lathe? A Swiss bank account?
First the good news! Following the three leaks that afflicted our house last spring, our living room and foyer have brand new carpeting. And there is nothing like brand new carpeting adjacent to old carpeting to emphasize just how dirty and faded the old carpeting is.
And once the carpeting was installed by the poor workman who had to do it all himself because his partner didn't show, we realized how much we liked our living room sparely appointed. So being pack rats, we either have to toss away what's now in boxes or throw away stuff in storage to make room for the new stuff.
I took a four-day weekend last week and as part of that, I took in my 1999 Honda Accord for maintenance. It was about to roll over 100,000 miles, so it needed a new timing belt. And while it was in, it needed an ignition switch recall repaired.
I got it back and it drove a lot better...until the next day, when it stopped moving. It stalled out at a traffic light and refused to budge. I was on my way to taking Rachel to preschool when it happened. And had it happened five minutes later, we would have stalled out on the freeway and who knows what would have happened to us. Or had it happened the night before, it would have died on the freeway with Rebecca behind the wheel, on her way to or from choir practice. So I'm glad it happened where it did, though not happening at all would have been a far better option.
Anyway, I had Rachel with me, so five different people stopped offering us either cell phones or saying they'd stay with us until police and/or a tow truck arrived. That's probably five more than would have stopped for me alone. Rachel ratchets up the adorability factor significantly.
Rebecca came by to take Rachel to preschool and I went back to the Honda place with the wrecker. Here is what happened, though I can't quite believe they admitted it. One of their workers torqued a bolt too tightly near my cam shaft. Before you knew it, it was all torque and no action. The bolt broke the cam shaft and a valve on my engine. One week later, my car is still in the shop. I have a free loaner and they're having to fix the damage for free.
Rebecca's car has a leak that has required a replenishment of water every day. So T.C. (teal car) is going into the shop today, though not at the Honda dealer. So we'll both be driving loaners. That's us...loaners....keeping to ourselves...kinda quiet...never bothering anyone.
Now, when we cleared out the living room for the new carpeting, something broke off on our very old tv and we now watch cable through the snowy screen. This was a point of great consternation last night when Julian McMahon was on the Tonight Show. Rebecca tried to watch through the snow and was beside herself when Leno showed a clip from McMahon's first movie when he apparently stripped down to his skivvies. I think the remark was something like, "Man, they show Julian's butt and all I see is rice cakes!"
By the way, the new tv is on order. And the property tax and auto insurance bills are due next month.
Still, we can't complain. We could be in Louisiana trying to put our lives back together. And if you haven't contributed anything, give whatever you can. I've been listening to New Orleans Radio Station WWL at night and I can't imagine how I could get through what is their reality these days.
So scratch the idea of the Swiss Bank Account. That needs to go to hurricane victims. The screwdriver and the lathe are still acceptable, however.

Rachel Update

It looks as if we're raising a little literalist. We went out to lunch today and Rachel decided to take a walk around the restaurant as self-appointed goodwill ambassador. As I rounded the corner after her, I heard a loud splat and I thought to myself, "That had to hurt." Right about then, the crying started. I didn't see which body parts made contact with the ground, so I asked Rachel, "What did you hit?"
And of course, the answer was "the floor." Between laughs, I asked again, "What did you hit?" And again the answer was "the floor." She's probably thinking, "Duh, Daddy!" And somewhere Sir Isaac Newton is smiling.
At least she's attemping to follow some rules though. I brought her with me to pick up my car at the Honda dealer (they had given me a loaner for the day. Of course, the car misunderstood and kept to itself and didn't bother anyone.) Anyway, I put Rachel into my car while I reinstalled her car seat. She crawled into the front seat and started pretending she was driving. The Honda folks were impressed though, because before she pretended to drive off, she tried to fasten her seatbelt and shoulder harness.
This was after I had offended her in some way and she looked at me and loudly proclaimed, "No! No No No No No No No No No NOOOOOOOO!" Another man looked over and smiled as she walked past him with her arms crossed and an impudent harumph on her face. I smiled wanly back and said, "And there you have the essence of two."
The week before, we went to pick up Mommy from choir practice at the Temple and I was trying to impress upon Rachel the importance of being reverent and subdued there. She seemed to understand, as she whispered, "Be quiet." That was followed by the loudest voice she could muster two seconds later. "WHERE ARE WE?!"

Rachel Goes to School

Okay, as promised...Rachel enters preschool. From all accounts, she has made a flawless transition from being the only child at home (besides me) to one of 12 in a classroom.
She attends Monday, Wednesday and Friday...9:30 a.m. to 3 on Monday, 9:30 to 1:30 Wednesday and Friday. She gets to play ball and listen to creative storytelling on Monday, which is why that day is longer. The school is across the street from where daddy works, so daddy and daughter cruise down the HOV lane and taunt people stuck on the rest of the road because the one east-west highway that intersects our north-south route always seems to back up traffic on our freeway for little or no reason. That and the nimrods who discover they need to be about four lanes over approximately 17 inches from the exit ramp.
Anyway, the school is the Early Learning Center at our Temple and while they discuss the Sabbath on Fridays, I get the impression it is largely secular the rest of the week.
We had planned to get her to bed early the night before the first day of school, but circumstances conspired against us. I won't go into them here. Suffice it to say that I expected to be greeted by a grumpy toddler the next morning, but instead, encountered one eager to attend school.
After a traditional meal of milk and Cheerios...and an effort to drink the milk out of the bowl once the cereal was consumed, it was time to get dressed. Rachel is in the butterfly class and Rebecca found a top and skirt with butterflies on them. Rachel normally eschews socks, but we want her to wear them to school. So as I put on her second sock, I hear her say to the one on her right foot, "Hello sock. My name is Rachel. Would you like to go to school with me today?" It was adorable. Unfortunately, it was one of the few times that morning I wasn't videotaping. The capper were her sneakers ("They're NOT tennis shoes; they are sneakers!") that light up when Rachel steps on them.
We then loaded up her Tigger lunch bag and her Strawberry Shortcake tote and headed in. No backpack for our daughter, she totes her things on wheels like she's trying to catch a flight.
There was no separation anxiety whatsoever. Just like orientation the previous week, she headed in and didn't look back. It took her less than two minutes to find the Little People toys and she had a particular fascination with a plastic cordless drill that shined a red light when you pressed it.
And apparently, she's been looking for studs too. While talking to her today about school, I asked tongue-in-cheek whether she had a boyfriend and she told me "his name is Bennett." I don't know who chased whom, although Rachel has shown no shyness about going after what she likes. Our background check on Bennett should be in next Wednesday.
Anyhow, the night of her first class, the teacher's assistant called us and told her how helpful Rachel was. If someone is crying, she is concerned about what's bothering them. We were also told she helped clean up and put things back where they belong. To which we each replied, "Rachel? The strawberry blonde with all the curls?" We were assured she was the one. Well, there's behavior we haven't seen much at home! Maybe my wife and I should wear masks and disguise our voices in hopes we can get the same results.
And the second day, a note was sent home talking about how well she listened during Play Ball and helped collect all the balls.
I think she's just trying to impress Bennett.

Out of the Mouths of Babes!

Rachel just completed her first day at preschool. More on that later. Afterwards, she and my wife went out to lunch at one of Rebecca's favorite restaurants.
Shortly afterwards, an older woman was seated in the next booth over. She complained to the hostess that her eyes hurt because the lights were too bright.
Her son then sat down. She complained to him that her eyes hurt because the light was too bright.
When the manager came by, the woman again said her eyes hurt because the lights were too bright. This time, she added that she just had finished an appointment at the eye doctor.
In a nice gesture, the manager dimmed the lights to the entire restaurant so the older woman would feel more comfortable.
That's when my little 2 1/2 year old piped up and in the loudest voice possible asked, "WHERE DID THE LIGHTS GO?"
I guess we shouldn't be surprised though. My wife told me that one day, Rachel walked up to the most handsome customer in TCBY and informed him, "I have a poopie diaper...and it's a big one!"

Give It A Rest!

If you haven't noticed yet, my mind tends to wander off into some strange places. For instance, Bob Denver's death caused me to reflect on Gilligan's Island .
Specifically, the show's theme song. Remember? With Gilligan, The Skipper Too, A Millionaire and his Wife, A Movie Star, The Professor and Mary Ann...Here on Gilligan's Isle!
But remember? There was a second version. With Gilligan, The Skipper Too, A Millionaire and his Wife, A Movie Star and the Rest...Here on Gilligan's Isle!
And the rest?
Was the entire show not cast when the song was written? Was it writer's block? Or is simply that strange thing that happens to me once in a while when someone says hello and try as I may, I can't remember their name?
And the rest? There were only two of them. The Professor and Mary Ann, the epitome of midwest wholesomeness and crush object of young boys everywhere. Mary Ann, I mean.
What if this applied to other songs?
Are you going to Scarborough Faire...Parsley, Sage and the other spices
...And on this farm he had a pig...Ee-I-Ee-I-Oh...With an oink oink here, etcetera etcetera .
Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone and She's Always Gone Too Long, Everytime She Goes Away and I Know...I Know...I Know...I Know...I Know...blah blah blah
I could go on, but you know the rest.

M-I-C-K-E-Y

My wife is an art teacher at our Temple this year. As one of the projects, she is making posters inviting students to participate in this year's Hannukah Play. The two posters include a cutout where the child puts their head where Mickey's head would be. To drive home the point this is a Hanukkah play, Rebecca has given Mickey Mouse a blue yarmulke.
This got me to thinking about all the pressure Mickey Mouse must be under. All the other Mickeys have let him down.
Mickey Mantle-baseball superstar, hard drinker, badly damaged his liver to the point he needed a transplant.
Mickey Rourke-arrested for spousal abuse, noted hothead.
Mickey Rooney-married eight times, the one in 1978 has lasted.
Mickey in the Little Rascals "Our Gang" Series-played by Robert Blake.
Keep it up Mickey Mouse, it's all up to you!

By The Time I Get to Phoenix

Last night, Rebecca and I watched the Tonight Show. There was Reese Witherspoon for me and Hugh Laurie for her.
Anyhow, at one point, Joaquin Phoenix came out to sign a motorcycle for Katrina Relief. Rebecca asked for clarification on his name and I repeated his name and said it was Hispanic in origin.
I then told her he was the brother of Summer, Rain and the late River Phoenix. I said their parents were hippies and they all had these earthy names. Rebecca thought that strange and asked why they didn't just name a child Dirt Mound Phoenix.

She Speaks The Truth...Sometimes

Rachel and I were on the wooden floor of her playroom (formerly our dining room) tonight. Foam letters were spread around and it was time to see how many words she could recognize.
"Cat, dog, hi." Then I put down "no". Rachel immediately said, "No," and then added, "That's one of my favorite words."
Ain't that the truth?!!

She's gotten into the habit of asking me, "What did you do today?" So I make sure I reciprocate. But whenever you ask her the same question, the answer is always, "We go get yogurt", even though most of those days, she never set foot in TCBY.
Of course, what do you expect? My child has rewritten the song, "I like to move it, move it" to "I like to go get yogurt." Quite adorable.
And no we didn't teach her the song. It was in "Madagascar." Don't go calling DFCS!