No Need, I Can Do It For You . . .
 

I have developed a healthy distaste for that book. But I found it most interesting that S_A_B gets into it and for a while seemed quite upset when the Snort apprehended the baby bird. I think she is starting to realize that it will all work out in the end.

The key question, really, is: "Mr. Brown can Moo. Can You?"

S_A_M

No Need, I Can Do It For You . . .
 

Mr. Brown can whisper, very soft, very high, like the soft, soft whisper of a butterfly. Maybe you can do it too. I think you ought to try.

(I need to be stopped.)

Yep. That "Blues Clues" host needs a good ass-whipping.

The theme to Oobi, now, that's catchy. Kind of gets in your head, you know?

S_A_M

I've been dranched in all things Disney recently. Took the Gaplets to Disneyland a couple weeks ago, just before the summer rush. The older (4 years) was in heaven.

He also got propositioned by Snow White, which was mildly interesting. As y'all know, the Disney characters are released from their underground dungeons periodically and roam the grounds accepting hugs and photos. We were headed from Point A to Point B and Gattigap Jr. saw Snow White headed by. He stops, waves, and calls out excitedly to Snow White.

SW stops, talks to him for a moment, and says, "I'm headed to the Wishing Well. Would you like to come with me?" Inexplicably, my animated son now becomes shy and replies, "Um, no."

SW and the entourage continue on their way, and I kneel down and explain to my son that men rarely receive such offers from Snow White, and that should he in the future receive another, he should probably say yes.

Gattigap

OoooObi, oobi oobi oobi oobi OoooObi.
He's got a lot to see
He's got a lot to do.
And he's alwaaaays with yoooooooou.

It's the Tiny Planets theme that get's stuck in my head. I still hear it in my head all the time, and it's been months since Noggin stopped running that show after Play With Me Seseme.

Maybe it was just the music, but the Tiny Planets had this kind of tripped-out Euro club kid vibe. The characters don't speak English, do they?

I now have carpal-tunnel from performing endless "command performance" Oobi impersonations for the Weedlet.

Thank god she finally discovered Warner Brothers cartoons and Tom&Jerry. Now we have something to talk about.

Try to turn her on to Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain. They're hilarious the first few dozen times, and it's never to early to plant the subversive impulse.

I'm glad you put in the happy part. Every time I start thinking about having children, I see a child throw a fit in a grocery store and I question the wisdom of having children.

My sensitivity to crying children was never higher than when I was married w/o kids. Once you make it through the newborn stage, during which there is always a lot of crying over which you have little control, you kinda figure that sometimes kids cry and it's no big deal. I was equally desensitized to talkback by the time the oldest started talking back --- if you had asked me when he was a newborn how I'd react the first time he claimed "I don't love you," I would have said "utterly devastated." When it happened, though, under the circumstances I was laughing into my sleeve (while trying to project the image that I was taking his tiny emotions quite seriously). So nature has a way of protecting you from the tantrums, by making sure you don't particularly give a shit that your kid has five or so minutes a day during which he totally hates your guts. It's one among many extremes of emotion and experience em will have on any given day.

Oh, and the projected embarrassment you think you'd feel when your kid is having a meltdown in the middle of Wal-Mart or, worse, on a plane? I won't claim it's non-existent, but it definitely isn't as bad as LWOKs assume.

You'll have to ask Bilmore if the effect extends to being blasé when your child points a crossbow at you, etc.

Tend to agree with Atticus here.

The Brazenette throws an occasional fit in a grocery store or mall. Oddly, I can barely even tell that its happening anymore.

But know this. There is no wisdom to having children. Whoever said that to have a child is to go on for the rest of your life with your heart outside of your body was right. It's the single most foolhardy thing you can do. That said, I highly recommend it.

Or, the way I put it to a childless friend (an RC priest, so this wasn't to put "have kids" pressure on him), on the day my first child was born, the worst imaginable day of my future suddenly got immeasurably worse. The best imaginable day of my future suddenly got immeasurably more numerous. A fair trade, I'd say.

Let's not let the FB know we're having this conversation again. I hate oppressing people accidentally.

Ugh. The RC priest does not count as childless, given that he can repeat this to his parishoners or whatever when urging them to have as many babies as possible.

I'm not oppressed, I'm [negative word deleted to avoid offending people who breed]. Bnb, please, PLEASE keep track of when your kid is having a fucking tantrum and take it outside or home until it stops (or, better, don't take it to the store if it can't behave). Or I may follow you home after you finally drag the screaming brat out of the store and spraypaint "brat-breeders" on your house.

I love you, man.

My point was not that I am one of those blase mothers who yammers on with her aerobics instructor while her child rampages up and down the aisles of the grocery store, as much as my point was that once you live with a small tyrant, you are less likely to find their every little noise like nails on a chalkboard.

I do not take my child to movies, or to nice restaurants, or many other places I think it would be inappropriate to subject other people to her. But if you have a problem with the fact that she may whine in WalMart or throw her crayons on the floor at TGIFridays, well, I am truly sorry. I am doing my best.

Hm. Sounds like I can keep the spraypaint in the trunk instead of handy in the car cabin.

the employees of TGI Fridays all mind. so maybe you should throw a little extra hazard pay on to the tip. bending over under the booth to pick up the crayons tends to hurt the ole back. and please, no more smashed up cheerios all over the floor. for the love of god, people are trying to eat here.