Point Proven!

Today, while we enjoyed a meal together, Rachel asked Rebecca and me why we got married. During the course of the explanation, we told her that we rarely argue with each other and in fact, Rachel likes to argue much more than we do.

"No I don't!" she replied.

She wasn't real happy when we struggled to suppress our laughter.

American Gladators- 5-year-old Edition

"Good evening and Welcome to 'American Gladiators. Tonight, Siren takes on Laura in a series of events centered around 5-year-old boys and girls. These events will challenge the patience, stamina and creativity of both contestants.

We determined the order before the show began. We presented both Siren and Laura with sippy cups and Barbie dolls completely covered in Scotch tape for no reason by their children. Their challenge was to remove the Scotch tape as quickly as possible and in the fewest pieces. A five second deduction was added for each curse word or negative statement uttered. Siren won by 2.5 seconds after Laura said something about 'tubes being tied.'

For her victory, Siren chose to go second in our next challenge 'Clean vs. Dirty.' Each contestant will be shown an item and have to determine whether it is clean or dirty. Bring out the first item! Laura, go!"

"Well, it's a shirt and it's really wrinkled. But there are no stains on it. I'm going to say it was left on the back of a chair, pulled onto the floor and used as a blanket. It's clean!"

"You are CORRECT! Siren, go!"

"That's easy. There is a hole in the knee and an odor of grass stains. I think this was worn 10 minutes and the child was told not to get it dirty and clearly ignored the request and made the entire family late to grandmas because when he went to change, none of the socks that could be found matched any others in the house."

"Siren, you know your children. You are CORRECT. Laura, your turn!"

"Well, it looks clean, but the pullover is badly stretched near the midsection. This is a tell-tale sign the child crammed as many stuffed animals as possible underneath it to simulate being pregnant."

"So, your answer is....."

"Clean....but no longer wearable!"

"CORRECT!...Siren!"

"Mud on the trouser cuffs. Hole in the elbow of the shirt. Dirty!"

"Oh, I'm SORRY. Laura, for the win...."

"The trousers can be stuffed in boots. The shirt can be covered with a sweater or jacket. All I'm asking is one day to wash my clothes and daddy's clothes. Dirty, but can be worn again!"

"CORRRR-RECT! Round to Laura. She leads one to nothing. Our next game involves mysterious stains on light-colored sofas, beige rugs and clothing. We will begin with Siren and go in order until a stain is misidentified. The other contestant must identify that one correctly and the next one to win the round. Siren...go!"

"Chocolate syrup!"

"CORR-RECT! Laura"

"Queso"

"YES....Siren!"

"Blood....from the third finger on the left hand."

"AMAZING!"

"Paste...third period art!"

"Siren, continue..."

"Kitty Litter?"

"CORR-RECT! Laura?"

"Magic marker!"

"OH, I"M SORRY! Siren?"

"Eyeliner!"

"Yes and for the win.....what is this stain?

"The glitter I told her not to open 204 times!"

"YES! Tied one to one. For all the marbles, our contestants will have to race barefoot from one end of the house to another to answer a phone before the machine picks up, not knowing it's just a telemarketer even though each woman signed up for the 'Do Not Call List'. Making it more difficult is a floor filled with obstacles left by teams of 5-year-olds who ignored repeated entreaties to 'pick up your stuff or it goes to Goodwill!'

Whoever reaches the phone first will be our champion. Ladies, are you ready? Then, GO!

Siren is off to an early lead after Laura was thrown into the wall by marbles. OH! But now Siren is extracting a metal jack from the fourth metacarpal. OOOHHHH! And now it's Laura's turn to writhe in pain as she stepped on Legos in the most painful way possible. Siren makes her way around Pirate Booty strewn about the floor, but look out! The silver tea set got her. That spout may have to be surgically removed. THE ANSWERING MACHINE IS BEEPING! THE MESSAGE IS BEING LEFT! Both women are on the floor in obvious pain as the five-year-olds point and giggle with delight, oblivious that there will be no trips to Toys R Us or Chuck E. Cheese the rest of the month. For the 239th night in a row, WE HAVE NO WINNER! But as always, we thank you for watching! American Gladiators is performed before a live studio audience and we hope at least two of them are doctors! Good night!"

Let's Not Go Krogering!

"Attention, Kroger shoppers. Due to a growing number of morons in our store, we will be renaming the '15 items or less self-serve lane" the '15 brain cells or less lane.'"

I mean really, what is so dadburn difficult about buying groceries, getting into the self-serve lane, ringing yourself up, tabulating the cost, paying and leaving? Apparently, there are a lot of people out there who should be extremely thankful breathing is involuntary.

I spent 15 minutes today watching people in the checkout line looking at the machines like they were Paris Hilton attending a lecture by Stephen Hawking.

As a public service, I'd like to help explain the process.

"15 items or less."

15 is three more than a dozen. You start at one and count up to fifteen. If you have more than 15, get out of line. See that sign above that reads "15 items or less?" That's a big hint. I know we live in a melting pot. I am a first generation American on my father's side. He came to this country with a limited knowledge of the language, but he learned it and made a nice life for himself. Learn enough to perform basic functions.

One possible alternative, when the scanner senses a 16th item, a trap door opens and a pneumatic tube, much like what is used in banks, delivers the customer out to the parking lot while animatronic Sesame Street characters shout out numbers one through fifteen.

The Line

People are lined up to wait their turn. You get behind them, not in front of them. Don't point to the machine that reads $4.39 for nasal spray with a $1.50 Kroger card discount. No one can use it until the employee voids the sale. You know what? Go ahead and try to use it. Knock yourself out, you lemming.

By the way, if the machine says "collect your change from the cashier", that means the next person can't use it until the change is distributed.

"Speed It Up!"

If there is a line of people growing longer behind you, you can scan your items at a speed slightly quicker than a Yugo accelerating up an entrance ramp to merge into freeway traffic. We are cautiously optimistic you can find a bar code at a pace quicker than one every 45 seconds.

"Produce"

You hit the "produce button" and then hit the corresponding picture that looks like what you are buying. if you are buying bananas, look for the image that shows bananas. A watermelon is not a cherry! Lemons are not grapefruits! I believe the best solution to this dilemma would be to rig the machines so they deliver a massive electrical shock the second time the incorrect produce button is pressed. The current would increase with each subsequent mistake.

"Please place the item in the bag."

After you scan your item, place it in a plastic bag, or in the case of sodas, dog food or detergent, on the counter, with enough force so that the machine senses it. Continued ignorance of the process could result in you leaving the store in a bag, a body bag!

"Do you have any coupons?"

Simply press "yes" or "no." Otherwise the question shall be changed to "do you have any clue?"

You then press cash, debit or credit and pay, indicating whether you want change back.

I also think chronic self check-out offenders should have their photos posted, like criminals whose pictures are up at the post office. Or maybe we should have to submit to sophisticated eye scans and be required to use them every time we use the self-serve lanes. Habitual idiots would have their eyes scanned as sirens blare, lights flash and James Earl Jones voice intones "Moron alert...moron alert...moron alert" while others look disdainfully at the customer and the cashier hands them a scarlet M.

Not that I'm bitter or need anger management counseling or anything.

Rachel These Days

It amazes me how rapidly Rachel continues to develop these days. The biggest thrill is how she recognizes words. She is not even six yet and some of the words she has figured out have to be far beyond what is expected for her age.

The downside of this, of course, is we can no longer spell words we don't want to say in front of her. She is more than capable of figuring them out.

Our daughter still has the penchant for the dramatic and at times, hyperbole. Curses by both parents with a sweet tooth, or perhaps an entire mouth of them, she has developed a little bit of a stomach. Today, we couldn't get her pants buttoned without her complaining of discomfort. She told us she was going to get a nosebleed because the pants were so tight! She has since gone to school in a skirt instead.

Another example of her sweet tooth. The other day, the Temple had a series of Hanukkah projects for young children. One was to make an edible menorah out of graham crackers, marshmellows, pretzels, some sort of miniature candy and an unidentifiable material that looked to be cross among butter, vanilla extract and meringue. We were limited to fifteen minutes at each project station, so we only got three candles done. Rachel ate her menorah before her mom even had a chance to see it, giving a whole new meaning to the term "light lunch."

By the time the session was over, Rachel was cruising on a sugar high of epic proportions, running around the room, jumping on dad, things like that. Later in the day, she went to our neighbor Christina's house to help bake Christmas cookies. We had to stage an intervention to "bring her down" before school the next day.

These days, the R in Rachel's first name might as well stand for "R" gumenative. Sometimes, I think she just wants to hear herself argue. As a result, I have developed what all parents call "the look." I look at her a certain way and if it doesn't trigger the "off" switch, at least I can get a "pause" for a second or two. The funniest thing is when I give her the look or she is admonished for something and she just heads for the corner and stands there. There is a sense of right or wrong in our 5-year-old.

In fact, when we ask her how school was, she'll often respond, "I didn't make it to step one today." Step one is a gentle reminder from her teacher. Step two is timeout. Step three is a trip to another teacher's toom. Step four is a trip to Headmistress Becky Hunt. When Rachel admits she made step one or rarely step two and you ask what she did, she usually answers in this timid, hushed voice "I don't know." It's usually for talking or not staying put, but it may take time to extract that information.

Still, she loves learning. She knows she will be six in three weeks or so. I recently gave her a Toys R Us catalogue and had her circle what interested in. I've learned from that. Next year, I will have her circle what doesn't interest her. It won't take as long. For the record, Disney Princesses and dogs are very big this year. She loves chihuahuas. We continue to hope another breed becomes her favorite soon.

All we need is a child on a sugar high arguing with us, with a chihuahua yapping behind her. Serenity now!

Thanksgiving Day Surprise

It wasn't exctly breakfast in bed. It was more like we were in bed and summoned out of bed.

Anyway, Thanksgiving morning began in a touching way at our house. Rachel woke us up and informed us she had made us breakfast.

I got up first and was relieved to not find a huge mess in the kitchen. Instead, I found two plates on the floor. My morning meal consisted of a slice of Muenster cheese between two slices of wheat bread, a small box of raisins, a purple Tootsie Pop (my favorite flavor) and a carton of Juicy Juice. I devoured it all, except for the Juicy Juice.

Rebecca moved a little more slowly that morning and by the time she emerged, Rachel had eaten the meal she prepared for her mother.

Still, it was nice to learn that on Thanksgiving Day, our five-year-old had chosen o do something nice for others.