The Story of How We Got The Squirmy Model

When Daddy and I decided we wanted a baby, we put in our order. We checked off the qualities we wanted our child to have:

Girl or boy? Boy.
Smart? Check.
Handsome? Check.
Slightly mischievous? Check.
Good sense of humor? Check.
Good imagination? Check.

Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, a supertaster would be acceptable, must like cars, and so on down the list. It took us, like, a week to agree on everything.

We finished filling out the form and sent it in along with our deposit, which was like $80 or something.

A few weeks later we got a call from the baby people. They explained that for the date range we wanted our baby to arrive, they did have a smart, handsome boy with a good imagination who would have all the characteristics we wanted, but -- all they had left were Squirmy models.

What was a Squirmy model? we asked.

The lady, I think her name was Louise, explained that Squirmy meant that he'd be more active than some of the other models, like "Quiet" and "Calm."

We didn't think that sounded so bad, after all, we like to walk and take trips and do things, so we told her that seemed OK.

Then she said that the handsomest, smartest, funniest one of all was only available in Extra-Squirmy.

What's Extra-Squirmy mean? we asked, starting to get a little worried about whether this squirmy business might be hard to deal with.

"It just means he's a little more active, that's all," she reassured us, "think of it like the Border Collie of kids."

Now, we knew that Bordie Collies are beautiful dogs, active and alert and smart. So we told her yes, that was the one we wanted.

Well. We didn't know what we were gonna get!

It turns out that the Extra-Squirmy baby HAD to be upright at all times when he was awake. And he didn't nap much, either.

He always wanted new stimulation. He NEVER sat still. And that's still true 6 years later.

And we wouldn't trade our Squirmy model for any other kid in the galaxy.

The Story of the Arfing Bunny

Yesterday after school we spent a few minutes at the farm museum. As we approached the bunny hutches, a brown bunny in the first hutch made a noise like this: "Arf-arf-arf."

We didn't know if he was sneezing or talking!

I think he was saying hello.

Then the biggest bunny in the next hutch was sniff, sniff, sniffing toward us as if to say, "Who is that over there?"

The Story of the Incoming Rat

Once upon a time a little boy and his mom were waiting for a subway train.

They looked down the track to see if they could see the train coming.

The mom said, "I see something coming, but we should not get on it.

It is not the E train.

It is a rat. And there is no 'E' in rat."


The end.

True story.

With a Nod to Dr. Seuss

I made this up tonight, after DB said he thought his ear gurgled.

Once I heard my ear,
I thought I heard it gurgle.
I guess I was mistaken --
it was my nose that snergled.

And then there are my toes,
they like to gerbalot.
When my elbows see them do it,
they dance a mergalot.

I'm adding this stanza now because it needs something to finish it:

I don't know why they do it,
and I can't make them stop.
All I know is when they're through it
they need to wikkezot.

Illustrations TBD (to be drawn) -- or, maybe not.

The Lorax

We read Dr. Seuss's The Lorax today. It made quite an impression on me when I was young -- I especially remember the cartoon version -- and was interested to see how DB would react.

As the trees get chopped down, on a page that's before the crisis gets totally out of control, he commented, quite matter-of-factly I might add, "I would plant new trees to replace the ones getting cut down."

I love him so much!

Ty Beanie Babies

The title of this story is "Ty Beanie Babies." (Note the registered trademark symbol next to "Ty.")

I have long suspected that DB's ability to write a story is hampered primarily by his difficulty with writing. Partly age-appropriate difficulty spelling words, and also his difficulties with grip. Anyway I see the three-panel stories that come home from school and inwardly cringe, thinking that he's capable of so much more. Et, voila. I wrote but he dictated. Right down to the punctuation.

(In fairness I think the abrupt ending was caused by that being the last page of the blank book. Past-bedtime fatigue may have also contributed.)

Here are the real Val and Valentina:

Valentina arrived Sunday from Grandma's house. They are indeed married, the ceremony having been performed by Eagley (another Beanie Baby), cut a bit short due to a LIRR train rumbling past the bedroom window that needed the best man to count its cars. There was an incident the other day involving a yellow stuffed Peep working her way into Val Bear's heart (he's known her a long time), but after a discussion of the concept of monogamy (but not the word), the three have decided to be friends.