Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Growing old is, in many ways, just not very appealing. There are some people who show how it can be done with grace and kindness, and I'm grateful to them.
Nana's boyfriend Norm is one of those people. He squires her around, taking such good care of her that it's impossible for our family not to love him. He helps her into cars, opens doors for ladies of every age, and never stops smiling. He can't hear much anymore, so he tends to laugh a lot. He just quietly chuckles to himself when he's not sure what else to do. Once a week, he goes bowling, plays pinochle, plays poker with the boys (while drinking his beloved dry vermouth), and plays the keyboard at parties for money or for people in the "old folks' home" to "cheer them up." (He's 87, turning 88 in January.) He doesn't dance as much since Nana got sicker, but he blushes when she tells him that watching him she can just imagine how good a dancer he was when he was a teenager. When she says that she'd wanted to dance a few weeks ago but he was busy, he says, "Now Marge, you know that you can call me anytime, anytime and I'll take you out dancing." What a guy!
Last night in the car Care was telling some of her favorite jokes. (I just have to provide examples here.) "How do you catch a unique rabbit?" "You-neak up on him!" Bah-dum cha. "How do you get Pikachu on a bus?" "You Poke-Him-On!" "Why don't you want to shower with Pokemon?" (If anyone reading this can't get the answer, we may need to talk...) "Because he'll Peek-At-Chu!" High quality humor, Care. But she laughs so hard at her own jokes that even though Nana and Norm don't understand them (and I don't think they're THAT funny), the whole car dissolved into helpless laughter as her infectious laugh boomed out over and over. When she recovered, she asked Norm to tell us a joke. He turned toward us, beaming, and tried to think of one.
"A fat man fell in the mud!" he says proudly. We wait for more of the joke, but as the pause drags out we realize that's it. A fat man fell in the mud. I collapse backwards and laugh helplessly and hysterically while Care tries to verify if this is indeed the whole joke, and then she's off laughing again and then the whole car is laughing. Good times.
|
Nana's boyfriend Norm is one of those people. He squires her around, taking such good care of her that it's impossible for our family not to love him. He helps her into cars, opens doors for ladies of every age, and never stops smiling. He can't hear much anymore, so he tends to laugh a lot. He just quietly chuckles to himself when he's not sure what else to do. Once a week, he goes bowling, plays pinochle, plays poker with the boys (while drinking his beloved dry vermouth), and plays the keyboard at parties for money or for people in the "old folks' home" to "cheer them up." (He's 87, turning 88 in January.) He doesn't dance as much since Nana got sicker, but he blushes when she tells him that watching him she can just imagine how good a dancer he was when he was a teenager. When she says that she'd wanted to dance a few weeks ago but he was busy, he says, "Now Marge, you know that you can call me anytime, anytime and I'll take you out dancing." What a guy!
Last night in the car Care was telling some of her favorite jokes. (I just have to provide examples here.) "How do you catch a unique rabbit?" "You-neak up on him!" Bah-dum cha. "How do you get Pikachu on a bus?" "You Poke-Him-On!" "Why don't you want to shower with Pokemon?" (If anyone reading this can't get the answer, we may need to talk...) "Because he'll Peek-At-Chu!" High quality humor, Care. But she laughs so hard at her own jokes that even though Nana and Norm don't understand them (and I don't think they're THAT funny), the whole car dissolved into helpless laughter as her infectious laugh boomed out over and over. When she recovered, she asked Norm to tell us a joke. He turned toward us, beaming, and tried to think of one.
"A fat man fell in the mud!" he says proudly. We wait for more of the joke, but as the pause drags out we realize that's it. A fat man fell in the mud. I collapse backwards and laugh helplessly and hysterically while Care tries to verify if this is indeed the whole joke, and then she's off laughing again and then the whole car is laughing. Good times.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
12 out of 18 of my kids are reading Harry Potter. This annoys some people, who want the kids to be reading "good literature," but I think it's wonderful. They're all so excited about it, and getting to talk about it and exchange ideas and theories. The strong readers really help the weaker ones by explaining things, and the weaker readers get to be part of a reading cult, which is an extremely seductive thing at that age and can really capture their hearts and minds when all other sorts of reading tricks and enthusiasm have failed. And no one who's actually read those books can say they're not great!
(Plus, I get to read over their shoulders! ;-))
|
(Plus, I get to read over their shoulders! ;-))
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
::Whispered in hushed tones::
"The teachers have special powers...they have eyes in the back of their heads somewhere that we can't see..."
Do you have any idea how long I've waited to hear someone tell me I have eyes in the back on my head after hearing my mom give that as her perfectly logical reason for knowing EVERYTHING for my whole life?? Needless to say, I was amused.
|
"The teachers have special powers...they have eyes in the back of their heads somewhere that we can't see..."
Do you have any idea how long I've waited to hear someone tell me I have eyes in the back on my head after hearing my mom give that as her perfectly logical reason for knowing EVERYTHING for my whole life?? Needless to say, I was amused.
What I got paid for today:
Painting leaves gold, yellow, red, and orange, and pressing them onto poster papers...
Reading Harry Potter over kids' shoulders...
Jumproping...
Going to the book fair...
Play one-handed four-square...
Talking about "Little Men"...
Teaching a little subtraction...
It was the kind of day where I get home thinking, "I know they don't pay me much, but I'm being fed, housed, and clothed to do THIS? As my JOB? It almost shouldn't even be allowed..."
|
Painting leaves gold, yellow, red, and orange, and pressing them onto poster papers...
Reading Harry Potter over kids' shoulders...
Jumproping...
Going to the book fair...
Play one-handed four-square...
Talking about "Little Men"...
Teaching a little subtraction...
It was the kind of day where I get home thinking, "I know they don't pay me much, but I'm being fed, housed, and clothed to do THIS? As my JOB? It almost shouldn't even be allowed..."
