The Monkey in the Mall

I was walking in the mall with my family and Bella suddenly said, “Daddy, there’s a monkey in the mall.” Humoring her, I said, “Wow, that’s pretty cool.”

So we kept walking through Macy’s, past the overpriced T-shirts with skulls on them (who knew Goth would be so fashionable, Ed Hardy?) and soon we were out into the mall. A couple with a pet carrier went past us.

“There’s the monkey again,” exclaimed Bella.

“Honey, that’s a dog,” I replied condescendingly. Many “eccentric” people seem to think their little dogs like to be wheeled around in pet carriers at the mall. I’d seen it many times before. But Bella was not letting up.

“No, it’s a monkey.”

Okay, so now I was interested in seeing what kind of dog could actually look like a monkey. So I caught up to the people pushing the cat carrier. Sure enough, there was a monkey inside. A really, really, annoyed monkey. My first response (in my head) was: What the Fuck?! What type of crazy person owns a monkey, and then thinks the monkey needs to be taken for a walk at the mall in a cat carrier. Clearly the monkey did not agree. He looked scared and agitated.

Now I looked at the couple. They looked like an old Russian couple, and all I could think of were Russian circus performers who sought asylum in America 20 years ago, and somehow managed to convince customs officials to let them keep their monkey. Better than a dancing bear, I suppose.

We kept our distance from the potential star of Outbreak and wondered how far monkeys could really through their shit. Past the fountain, or all the way to Cinnabon? We didn’t stick around to find out.

Next time, when my daughter says something like “I just saw a rocket car” or “That elephant isn’t in his cage”, and we’re in Los Angeles, I will be more inclined to believe her.

Sometimes You Just Need a Break

It was building up all week. My wife had gone on a business trip to Seattle, leaving me with both kids for the better part of 48 hours. Now Bella had daycare, so that helped, but the mornings and evenings were pretty tough. I made it clear no one was going to get a bath, including me, in that period. That would have been like playing with fire. If fire was water, and well, you know what I mean.

And yes, I cheated. The first casualty after cleanliness is nutrition. In and Out Burger one night, turkey sandwiches the next. Any longer and we would have had pizza, Chinese food, and anything else that could be delivered and eaten on paper plates. So meals, check. That just left mornings, bedtime, and the eight hours alone with the baby in between. It was a feat of scheduling and patience, and one I almost lost. But I kept explaining to Bella that everything was much harder because Mommy was away and I needed her help and for her to be extra-good. That’s right, I guilt-tripped a four year old, and it worked 70% of the time.

After what seems like two years, my wife was home. All was well and as it should be. But not quite. She then “reminded” me she had a hair appointment after work and wouldn’t be home until later Friday night. I asked her to reschedule it. She said no. Fair enough. But that left me ANOTHER night home alone with both kids on the heels of the business trip. And the baby wasn’t sleeping through the night so I was exhausted and almost out of patience.

Then the coup de grace. On Friday night, as I kept looking out into the driveway every eight minutes to see if my wife was home, the phone rings. It’s my wife, saying she’s going to be at least an hour later since the hair dresser was taking longer than usual. I was so angry I hung up on her. Now, I say I was angry, but I have to say I didn’t really blame her. She could have told the hairdresser “My husband is alone with the kids. Could you please hurry this up so I can get back and help him out?” No sane woman would ever say this. She just wanted to relax in a chair with minimal screaming around her and just zone out for two hours. The bottom line was she needed a break. I totally got it.

Now, when she finally did get home she looked at me and said, “OK, I got this. Why don’t you go see Watchmen?” It was an unwritten rule. One of the keys to keeping sane in the process of raising kids is knowing when your partner has had enough. She knew. I was out the door in under four seconds.

Now Watchmen is a long movie. I felt my whole body unwind as I sat alone in the movie theater. It was quite relaxing as I watched the threat of nuclear annihilation, my favorite character Rorschach brutalize prison inmates, and of course Dr. Manhattan’s large blue nuclear penis. Okay, that made me a bit uncomfortable.

But it was what I needed. I needed a break. When the movie ended I walked slowly back to the car, and then I stopped. I got an ice cream cone. I sat and ate it with the other teenagers. Damn, it was good. Coffee ice cream with chocolate covered espresso beans. Yum. And yet I don’t like to drink coffee. But make it cold and a solid and I’m all over it.

So I got home and felt better. My wife and I both understand that we each need a break sometimes. So be in tune with your partner and know when they need to tag out. Of course, if you both need a break, then it’s time to call the relatives and offer them an all expense paid trip to your house. Act now! Operators are standing by…

How Strong is Batman?

This question came up as I drove to the airport to pick up my mother. Since the WB took Spiderman off the air, Bella and I have discovered the new show Batman: The Brave and the Bold show on Cartoon Network. It’s cool. It’s got a retro-superhero vibe to it and is brighter and more fun than the other Batman shows. So we were watching it last night on the DVR and as we were driving, Bella said “Batman is really strong.”
“Yes, he is really strong.”
“Is he stronger than you?”
“Yes, I believe Batman is stronger than me.” No sense in lying. Eventually she would probably figure out that Batman was stronger than me. So I posed my own question: “You know who is stronger than Batman?”
“Who?”
“Superman.”
We then proceeded to talk about all of the things Superman could pick up, from her baby brother to a building. Finally she asked if Superman was strong enough to pick up the whole world. I said no, but he could fly really fast backwards around the whole world and turn back time. I think that’s where I lost her. That’s okay. One heroic deed at a time.

So I’m slowly introducing her to the DC Universe, and she now knows Green Arrow and Blue Beetle. Although Blue Beetle is really annoying.

I anticipate I will be asked the ultimately question very soon: Who would win in a fight, Batman or Superman? That is a discussion for another day and has been raging for nerd-years. Superman is stronger, but Batman always has Kryptonite with him. Yet Superman knows Batman has Kryptonite with him… etc. But I’m looking forward to it. Frankly, I’m curious to hear my four year old’s insight on this.

Why I STILL Love and Hate Whole Foods Market

Sure, I said this before, like when I said I love Whole Foods because I enjoy watching overly thin women in baseball caps take two hours to pick the right vitamin, but now I have even more reasons why I both love and hate thee, Whole Foods Market.

Firstly, now that the economy is going south, you are actually putting things on sale. “Simply Orange” orange juice, under $3.00? A reasonable price? Are you having a going out of business sale? I love your food, and love your low prices more! But quit hiding them! It’s not a “secret sale”. They do try to fool you with the $2.00 can of tuna right next to the $5 one. Which will you pick in your haste to get home before the baby starts crying? Do you feel lucky?

I took my eight month old son there and normally he is good in supermarkets and looks around contentedly. Sitting in his carrier up high on the handlebars he looks around like he’s on a Disney ride. But not today. Today, he screamed his head off causing every judgmental woman around me to look over and see what was going on. I saw the look they were giving me, like “I wonder if that’s really his kid.” So I quickly took him out of his carrier and held him. He stopped crying immediately and all the nosy women around me seem to breathe a sigh of relief. That never happens at Trader Joe’s, by the way. There are much less judgmental shoppers there who are just interested in getting a box of Cranberry Crunch cereal or a $2.00 bottle of wine from a brand that shouldn’t really exist than to see why a baby is crying. But I held the baby the whole time and did all my shopping with one hand, which was kinda hard.

Lastly, I was Angelina Jolie at my whole foods store, the day of the Academy Awards. Or was it Golden Globes? I don’t remember. I do remember seeing a very thin woman in an overcoat, hat, and sunglasses analyzing mangos. As soon as you see someone in warm sunny LA in an overcoat, hat, and sunglasses, you know it’s a celebrity. Nothing screams “I’m a celebrity in disguise” faster than dressing like a 50s secret agent. But then there was something familiar about her disguise, and I realized she was wearing the same clothes as she wore in The Changeling. So it was a retro disguise as well. Now it’s entirely possible that this was a crazy person dressed up like Angelina Jolie, who was concerned about getting organic fruit. But I don’t think so. I think it was the real deal, and yes, I left her alone. Scott Baio I may have said hi to, although I didn’t when I saw him at the Ralph’s a few years ago. But next time, I might. We’ll see.

So with your good food, high prices, hidden celebrities and even more hidden sales, our love-hate relationship will continue, Whole Foods Market. For as long as I can afford it.

Happy Valentine's Day

I’ve never liked Valentine’s Day. A holiday manufactured by retailers and often all it does is mock single people. But this year, my Mom was in town and we could go out. Kid Free for a nice romantic evening. Any excuse to actually go out, I’m down. So my wife thought we should go out for dinner and a movie, our favorite date since our early twenties.

But then I did some research and saw that my favorite play was being performed in Santa Monica: Macbeth. I asked my wife if she wanted to see it on Valentine’s Day. She coyly replied that it wasn’t very romantic, it being Valentine’s Day and all. “Doesn’t he get beheaded in the end?”

Okay, so maybe it’s not what you call a light play, but it explores human nature, unbridled ambition, and doing horrible things to obtain power. It explores questions about free will and destiny, and if we really are masters of our will, or just hurdling towards a preordained prophecy, regardless of our actions or how much we try and fight it. What could be more romantic than that?

So we had an amazing two hour dinner at Le Petit Restaurant and then sadly missed the last showing of Slumdog Millionaire. But it was fine. We enjoyed ourselves and for the first time I really didn’t mind being manipulated by a commercially manufactured holiday. We had a little wine and before you knew it I was saying to the waiter, "Lay on, Macduff, And damned be him that first cries: Hold, enough!" My wife just told me to sit down and finish my cobbler.

How I Knew Not To Take My Four Year Old to See Coraline.

Guest Blogging again over at www.ourmilkmoney.blogspot.com Enjoy!

http://ourmilkmoney.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-i-knew-not-to-take-my-four-year-old.html

Chris

My Three Year Old Wants to Smoke

When you have a three year old, she wants to do everything she sees someone else doing. It started at around two, when we were in line waiting for the Monsters Inc ride at Disneyland and another parent swung their kid up high while waiting in line. She looked at me and said “I want to do that.” So we did it. I swung her and the line finally moved and we got on the ride. It’s not bad. Not great, but not bad. At this point, I expect a little bit more from my robotics than a blink and a hand gesture, but I’m highly critical of cybernetic technology. It’s not the 50s anymore. I’m just saying.

So this “I want to do that: continued with everything from seeing someone drive a truck, ride a bus, or watching Spiderman spin a web, any size, and then catch thieves just like flies. Look out! Here comes the Spiderman… And yes, I trashed that WB new Spiderman show before, but once I got past the weird character design, it’s actually a pretty good show. Bella and I watch it together every Saturday Morning. She also wants to now go to high school and fight the Green Goblin, but one thing at a time.

We went out to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory last night, always an adventure with two kids, and when Bella got antsy I took her to walk around the rim of the small fountain. I held her hand and she loved walking around it until the security guard told us to stop. He said we could throw money in, though, that was okay. Geez. Thanks.

So we were sitting there, not walking around the fountain when Bella pointed to someone who sat near us. “I want to do what that man is doing.” She said.
“What Man?”
“That Man, right there.”
“I looked over at it was a man smoking. Then I looked again and realized it was actually a woman. The irony almost made me laugh out loud. I kept thinking of that “Smoking is Beautiful” poster they had up in high school with this wrinkled old ugly man smoking.
So I said, “No Bella, You can’t smoke. It’s a filthy disgusting habit.” The problem is the man/woman heard me. She/he gave me a look and walked away with a puff of smoke. I then added, a bit too loudly, “And it’s not a man, it’s a woman.”

Our daughter is becoming more away of the world around her, and that means more explanations and some creative verbal improv without the help of the audience yelling “freeze”. Good thing I have a lot to say.