Botanical Tacos for Burglars

Here are just some of the highlights from the past week:

Yesterday while walking home from the park. Isaac was on my shoulders.

(In a whisper): "Dad...I love you more than tacos."

From a few days ago. Isaac told me that he had a secret to tell me, so I hunkered down to his level and he said:

"Dad...I love you more than plants."

From earlier this week. I was starving to death and my stomach was beginning to hurt.

Isaac: Why does your stomach hurt?
Me: I'm just really hungry.
Isaac: I will hug your stomach for you so it feels better.
Me: Thanks, buddy.
Isaac: Maybe burglars did it.
Me: What?
Isaac: Maybe a burglar sneaked into the house with a mask and cash and punched your belly while you were sleeping.
Me: Um, maybe.

I couldn't figure out what kind of sadistic burglar would stop at our house on his way home from a big heist just to punch me in the stomach and leave. It couldn't have been a very hard punch seeing as though I never woke up. Then again, maybe Isaac was trying to threaten me in a very subtle manner. Kind of like, "Hey, I'm gonna hire a money hungry dude to come beat you if you don't make with the money, and fast." I guess I'll have to wait and see.

A prankster, he ain't/Love in the time of Lockheed-Martin

Isaac's preschool is fantastic. He loves it. Brenda and I love it. Everyone is happy. One of the best parts is the way they acknowledge nearly every holiday. For instance, this past Monday, the same Leprechaun who wreaked havoc just twelve days before turned everyone's milk green and left green footprints on the floor. Now that's dedication. Even after St. Patrick's Day was close to two weeks past, the staff kept it coming. That being said, I wasn't too surprised when Isaac offered his best attempt at comedy on April Fool's Day.

Isaac: Hey, Dad. You have a...um...spider in your hair.
Me: What?
Isaac: Um...uh...FOOLS!!!!
Me: HA! I think you mean 'April Fool's."
Isaac: Oh, yeah. Dad, you have a brontosaurus on your head.
Me: I do?
Isaac: April Fool's!
Me: That's it!

I'm honestly relieved that he's terrible at this kind of thing. That will save him a lot of grief when he gets older.

A few nights ago, it was my turn to put Isaac to bed. We played school for a little bit and then we played a card game that Isaac made up which is kind of like 'Go-Fish" but uses 'Skip-Bo' cards. Oh, and the players must talk in cowboy voices. I know...AWESOME!!! Anyway, we got done with all the playing so the time to be tucked in came. Isaac gave me a big hug and then the following happened.

Me: I love you soooo much, buddy.
Isaac: I love you, too. Do you know how much?
Me: How much?
Isaac: I love you more than guns.
Me: Oh, good.
Isaac: And jerks.
Me: Great.
Isaac: Yeah, I love you more than those, 'cause they're bad.

At least I know where I stand: Ahead of guns and jerks, but probably right below irritable bowel syndrome.

My Little Carbon Knight

A few mornings ago, before I left for work, Isaac gave me two excellent Star Wars moments. For the first one, he and I were sitting in the kitchen where there sat a 4"X4"X12" Tupperware container. Isaac fiddled with it for a few moments before standing it up on one of it's 4"X4" ends. I asked him what it was supposed to be and he told me that it was Han Solo after he was frozen. That was pretty good, but the next one was even better.

I had gotten everything around for work and was making my way to the door, saying good-byes along the way, when I found Isaac on his back on the living room floor, sliding across said floor with his hands at chest level like he was getting ready to catch a basketball or do a push up.

Me: Isaac, what are you doing?
Issac (sliding on his back with hands frozen in same position): I'm Han Solo. I'm frozen.
Me: Oh. I see.
Isaac: Boba Fett is taking me to his ship. Then I'm going to Jabba's palace.

My heart swelled with pride as my little smuggler was carried away. I guess he worked out a deal with Jabba, because when I returned home that evening, Isaac was there; carbonite-free.

Something I Learned Today.

Normally, when Brenda and I put Isaac to bed at night, we read two books and usually play with toys for about 10 minutes or so. Lately, however, Isaac has been requesting that we play either doctor or school. The last house we owned was sold to us by a man who was part-way through med-school. He unknowingly left his stethoscope in a closet, so after we obtained full ownership of the house, we also obtained ownership of doctor props should the occasion to play doctor arise. Lucky for us, Isaac loves to play doctor. But the doctor's office is not where I found myself tonight. Instead, I found myself in the classroom at a school that had a Star Wars-related class as part of its curriculum.

The last time Isaac and I played school, the bulk of the session was spent in the "cafeteria" where I was repeatedly encouraged to "get a Happy Meal." We rarely, almost never, only in the most dire of circumstances, eat at McDonald's; but ever since they decided to put Star Wars toys in the Happy Meals, Isaac has been fixated on the concept of them. Tonight, however, was a different story.

Tonight, I played the role of "Mr. Student-Dad." Isaac was a teacher...a shady one at best. After talking about our Star Wars homework, Isaac, momentarily playing the role of teacher AND student, had a conversation with himself which concluded with him asking me to talk to Isaac because "he doesn't speak Spanish." After that was recess. "Mr. Landis" walked over to me and handed me a car constructed completely of legos as well as a (water)gun and three (tiny, plastic) swords. He then told me to "hide them in (my) backpack." After a simulated end-of-recess bell sounded, Isaac began whispering in a very urgent tone. "Class. There is a tornado coming. For real. We have to go to that building over there. OK? Let's go." Once we safely made our way to the other building, Isaac told us (me) that we would be OK as long as the tornado stayed on the road and not the sidewalk. He quickly checked the twister's status a few times before he told me to get the gun out of my backpack and start shooting the tornado. Following the instructions of my teacher and my gut, I removed the miniature orange plastic Uzi from my Spiderman backpack and I squeezed the trigger until the hammer went "CLICK" (which was really only one shot). Crisis averted, we made our way back into the classroom where I informed Mr. Landis that it was time for bed.

Eh, it's been referred to as worse than that (Part II: Still Spacing)

Same day as the last post. Not entirely sure why Europe has been coming up so much when Isaac is around, but it certainly has. Here's the latest. This one came while I was watching the Kansas vs. UNI game (good lookin' out, UNI). One of the UNI players hung on the rim after a monster dunk.

Isaac: Why is he hanging there on the hoop?
Me: He's being stupid (as happy as I am to see Kansas lose, I hate that kind of nonsense).
Isaac: What?
Me: Oh, he's just silly.
Isaac: Like Europe?
Me (not knowing what else to say): Yes.

Maybe Isaac is confusing Europe the planet with Europe the band. I'm sure that twenty years ago, a lot of people thought that they were from outer space and I know from experience that in the present, many people think that they are silly.

Eh, it's been referred to as worse than that..

Isaac: Europe...is my favorite planet.

Why would you want to shoot Santa?

Isaac and Brenda went shopping this afternoon while Rosalie and I drank a ton of beer, gambled and watched "Scarface" 4 times. OK, Rosalie did those things while I cowered in the corner. Anyway, while out and about, Isaac became the proud recipient of a "pirate kit" which included a pistol, an eye-patch, three gold coins and a compass. So naturally, when he returned home, he wanted to play pirate, and I obliged.

So, our "ship" was his bed and we split the props equally between us. I had the gun and the coins while he sported the eye-patch and the compass. He informed that his name was "Captain" and my name was "Cuba." Not sure where he came up with this name for me, but for once, it actually was quite appropriate. Anyway, we set out on the high seas (or carpet, as it were) looking for treasure. Again, this seemed kind of strange considering I was in possession of three gold coins. How greedy were pirates in real life? Out of nowhere, the story took a strange turn: Isaac quickly consulted his compass and then the following exchange took place:

Isaac: Argh! We're going to Santa's house.
Me: Huh?
Isaac: The North Pole.
Me: Wait. What?
Isaac: (pointing to his compass with the arrow pointing directly over the big, red "N") There. The North Pole. We're gonna find Santa.

A minute or two went by before Isaac stood up and yelled "There he is!!" (gun noise) "I got him!" I asked him who he "got," but I already knew the answer. Isaac informed me that Santa was dead. I could only think that it is a good thing that Walter Cronkite is deceased or he would have cried while delivering this shocking news to the world and that Christmas would be ruined forever.