Me: (from the bottom of the stairs) LITTLE PIGS, LITTLE PIGS: LET ME COME IN.
Three Little Pigs: Not by the hairs of our chinny-chin chins.
Me: THEN I'LL HUUUUUFF...
Three Little Pigs: Eeeeek!
Me: AND I'LL PUUUUUUUUFF...
Three Little Pigs: Squeeeeeeal
Me: AND I'LL BLOW YOUR HOUSE IN! WAAAAAAH!
I ran bellowing up the stairs. Alice, who until this point had been very patient with our foolishness, lost it.
Me: (running back downstairs) It's ok, Alice! Don't be scared.
Three Little Pigs: Hurray! Alice saved us!
This morning, I went through a bunch of cycles of my sunrise salutation (a pre-set series of positions to help start the day). Every time I got to the downward-facing dog position, Henry turned my back and legs into a bridge over which he marched his toy dinosaurs. Then he marched them under me, which was funny, and forced me to the hold the pose longer than I would normally.
Henry: I think you should call this Downward-facing Dino Bridge.
Henry had moved on to something else by the next time I got to downward-facing dog. Instead, Jake, who has a wonderful knack of knowing exactly when someone has placed something as comfortable as a yoga mat on the ground, came out of nowhere, and flopped right under my face.
Me: (staring into a smiling doggie face) No, I think 'dog' is appropriate.
Luckily (and unluckily), Henry has inherited my huge head. (There's an image. Did it come in a box?)
It fits him perfectly. And, it looks great on him. Very little-boy like. Which is appropriate.
So: what does SP stand for?
We've gone through several ideas. For the a while, it was Super Penguins. Today at lunch, we decided it's Shark Punchers.
Awesome, right? What could be tougher than a team of dudes who are willing to punch a shark? (They also have bats)
Any other ideas?
Erin: I can't believe we watched a whole movie.
Me: (almost asleep) Mm.
Erin: This is nice.
Me: This is nice.
Erin: (looking down at the sleeping baby in her lap) She's good stuff.
Me: She is good stuff.
Erin: (resting her head back, a contented grin on her face) They're all good stuff.
Me: They are all good stuff.
She pauses a moment.
Erin: You're not capable of independent thought past ten o'clock at night, are you?
Me: I'm not capable of independent thought past ten o'clock at night.
Stef: Do you know what this is?
Henry: (scrutinizing a fuzzy picture) No.
Stef: It's a jellyfish.
Henry: (nodding in recognition) Oh, yeah!
Stef: Do you know what a jellyfish is?
Henry: It's an invertebrate with stinging tentacles.
Stef: (mouth agape) You know what an invertebrate is?
Henry: Yes. A creature with no backbone.
Stef: (mouth agape) !
This is the same boy who stares at me as if I am speaking Latin when I ask him to clean up his Lego.
Henry: I have to poo.
Erin: (reading a sign indicating the next town is 39 kilometres away) Can you hold it?
Henry: Yup. (suddenly squirming, leaning forward) Nope. Dad!
Me: No worries, Cornbread. We'll find you a spot.
Erin skillfully navigates us off the main highway onto a side road, and eventually onto an out-of-the-way lane in the bush.
Henry: I'm going to poop in the woods? Cool!
I lead him from the car to a nice quiet spot. I hold his arms as he hunches over.
Henry: (looking me in the eye, speaking between held breaths) This is really valuable for the soil.
Henry: I hate this wind. (shuddering) Who controls the wind?
Me: That's a good question. Some people think there's a god who controls things like that.
Henry: What do other people think?
Me: Other people say no one controls the wind. That wind comes from the heat of the sun, the cool of the water, the bumps and ridges of the earth, and a whole lot of other things working together.
Me: And some people think a god controls the sun, water, and earth in order to make wind.
Henry: (more thinking).
Me: What do you think?
Henry: I think I want to play hide and seek.
92 years later....
Me: I'm not bored. I'm having lots of fun.
Henry: But we're not talking about you, Dad. This is about me. I'm bored.
Me: I'm sorry to hear that. (something catches my eye) Woa! Did you see that?
Me: That duck that just landed. Have you ever watched how they land? It's kinda like a float plane coming in for a slow landing. Look! Here comes another one.
A female mallard eases herself out of the sky. Her wings are held back and slightly cocked. She comes in at a low trajectory, getting closer and closer to the water before finally touching down with her feet, skiing for a moment on the surface, and eventually bobbing in place at the end of her long wake.
Henry: Her feet are pontoons!
We spend the next twenty minutes watching ducks take off and land. He anticipates each landing with an uncontrollable flapping of his own. He then turns his attention to the gulls.
Henry: They don't land like planes! Watch!
A screeching gull glides out of its obnoxious flight in wide sweeping arcs.
Henry: Coming around... Coming around...
When the arcs finally sweep to about half a metre from the surface, the gull seemingly gives up on the concept of flight and drops unceremoniously to the water.
Henry: Wee! Flop! (peels of laughter)
Another twenty minutes later, I drag him away from the stupid, boring lake.
Super Dad will follow up this victory by displaying how cool it is to watch bread turn to toast through the little window on our toaster oven.
Roy: So, they gave you the old heave ho, did they?
Me: It's not 100%, but we're pretty sure.
Roy: (nodding) Hmph.
I shoveled for another minute.
Roy: Well, suck it up. You've got three beautiful kids.
Me: (pausing mid shovel) I will. And I know.
Roy: It's damn cold out here. I'm going in.