Hannibal Lecter

If your son or daughter ever asks you to close your eyes and ears, don't do it. I did and it almost cost me my nose.

One evening last week, while Isaac and I were playing, he out of the blue asked if he could bite my nose. This struck me as an odd request, so I just laughed and declined his strange offer.

We continued playing with Legos, or Star Wars figures or plutonium or whatever it was that we were using at the moment, the nose biting offer well behind us. Then, a few minutes later, Isaac asked me to close my eyes. Suspecting nothing out of the ordinary (for some reason), I obliged. His next request should have tipped me off that something weird was going to happen, but again, I obliged. It was only after I felt warm breath on my face that I opened my eyes to find my nose IN Isaac's mouth. He was trying his hardest not to laugh which made the whole scene that much better.

I'm still not sure what triggered his desire to eat my face, but I can appreciate his drive and determination to make his dream a reality.

Now that's no bull!

Isaac (while watching TV): I want to wrestle a bull.
Me: Why?
Isaac (with a "DUH!" tone in his voice): So I can eat it.

Famine, be damned!!/Go figure!!!

While eating dinner a few nights ago, Isaac said:

"Dad, I wish I had a machine so if I said 'I want a potato,' it would make me one."

And I don't think he intended "make me one" to mean "bake it in the oven for 30 minutes before applying butter and presenting to me with a fork." But rather, "construct one on my behalf." Now, there's a kid whose not afraid to dream big.

For quite a while now, Isaac has been pestering me to let him take my Doyle action figure out of the box. For anyone who doesn't know who Doyle is, he was/is the guitar player for legendary horror-punk band, the Misfits. My reason for wanting Doyle to remain in his (coffin-shaped) box had nothing to do with maintaining its value. In fact, it's most likely still worth about $14.99 like it was 14 years ago. No, my goal in keeping his boxed had much more to do with not wanting his guitar, bicep bands or Frankenstein neck-bolts to find themselves in "missing" status. But, today, I broke down and let Isaac play with the 12" figure. So, since about 5:00 this is all Isaac has cared about. He made me tell him about the other members of the band, he listened to a bunch of songs and he has been carrying and talking to Doyle as if he was real. I'm thrilled! For me, a grand opportunity has presented itself to get my son familiar with something I still thoroughly enjoy.

Isaac has always had an interest in action figures of all kinds, Star Wars, He-Man, Transformers and G.I. Joes are all present and accounted for in this house. But tonight, he asked something that someone should have asked Kenner 30 years ago:

Isaac: Dad, who made the Star Wars theme song?
Me: John Williams.
Isaac: Do they make an action figure of him?
Me: They SHOULD.

What a great idea from such a little man! Why wouldn't someone create a figure to commemorate the man responsible for creating one of the greatest themes known to man? Perhaps he could have scored all the times my He-Man figures made out with my sister's Barbies.

Stick and Bindle.

Isaac: One dollar? That's not a bad paycheck!

Indeed, hobos would find this to be a fair wage for a day's work.

A lesson in anatomy.

Just because I haven't posted much lately does not mean that Isaac has suddenly traded in his habit of saying awesome things in favor of more adult conversation. In fact, last night, while he and I were watching a documentary on the Pixies entitled "LoudQUIETLoud," he broke me off a piece of the following. He was eating chocolate pudding with strawberries while we were watching the flick. As 5-year old boys are wont to do, he had gotten some chocolate on his face, hands...and legs.

Me: How was it, Isaac?
Isaac: Good.
Me: Here's a napkin for your face and hands.
Isaac: Thanks.
Me: Is that some on your leg? (It was clearly on his leg.)
Isaac (wiping it off his leg): Maybe. No.
Me: Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was.
Isaac (grinning from ear to ear): No, it was my bellybutton.
Me: Your bellybutton?
Isaac (pulling his collar down, exposing his left nipple): Yeah, see? Like this.
Me: That's your nipple.
Isaac: My nipple?
Me: Yeah.
Isaac: Oh, I've got nipples all over the place.

And there ya have it. Just when you think Isaac might be in hiding or putting away his innocent ways, he comes out of nowhere and shoves a nipple right in your face.

Lost in Translation

I'm not entirely certain what started all of this, but a week or so ago, while sitting at the dinner table, Isaac began talking about speaking Chinese and whether or not Brenda and/or I spoke Chinese. This went on for a little while before I finally asked Isaac if he spoke Chinese. After taking a moment to consider the question, he stuck out the pointer finger of his left hand and, with a nod, said, "England."

Brenda and I did everything in our collective power to not laugh uncontrollably. The earnestness of his reply was as fantastic as what he said. Twenty minutes later, I asked him the same question, only to be answered with "Englaaaaaand" as if to say "We've already gone over thiiiiiiiissss." Madness nearly ensued, but luckily, Brenda and I got everything under control.

Since this episode, Isaac has not wavered in his stance on whether or not he is familiar with the Chinese language.

A cook you can count on.

Just because it's been a while since I've documented anything that Isaac has said does not mean that he's been silent. Tonight, for example, Isaac brought out some grat ones.

At about 8:45, Brenda decided to make zucchini bread. Isaac wanted to help. In fact, when Rosalie and I stumbled into the kitchen at about 9:00, Isaac was all too excited to have us be his audience.

Isaac (brimming with glee): Dad! I have a great idea!!
Me: What's that?
Isaac: You can sit over there and watch me cook! Isn't that a great idea?
Me: Ha! Yeah!! You're a much better cook than I am, buddy.
Isaac: Well, I can teach you. You just take some of that in a spoon and dump it in here and mix in.

He was sooo excited to be cooking. Isaac and Brenda slaved away in the kitchen while Rosalie and I watched the L.A./Boston game (GO BOSTON!!!!!!!!). Finally, after I had put Rosie to bed, Brenda and Isaac sauntered into the living room to give hugs and kisses on the way to Isaac's bedroom. I told him that I was looking forward to trying his bread and that if it wasn't good, I was going to eat him. He giggled and started up the steps. A moment later, Brenda walked back down the steps to get something she had forgotten. It was then that Isaac walked directly over to me and said, "Dad, my bread won't (with a swift wave of his arm) let you down. It will be good. It won't let you down. If you eat it, you will like it."

What a trustworthy baker! Now if it isn't good, I have to pretend to like it, but that's still a fair trade if you ask me.