Daddy, Did Julie Newmar Marry Adam West?

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 7
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy

Guest Starring: The Boyfriend


One of the first things the girls noticed about Australia is they only have 4 television stations.  This made them homesick.


Where was Dora the Explora? Where were Max and Ruby?  Where was Lazytown?  Where were the Wiggles?


Actually, the Wiggles were there.


So through the wonders of YouTube, The Bean and The Butterfly were introduced to Batman.  Not the tough, new gravelly-voiced Dark Knight.  No, the 1960's camp-tastic Caped Crusader.


Holy Spandex, Batman.


The Bean fell in love with Catwoman.  Check that, she wanted to be Catwoman.


Excerpts from an actual conversation - 


Me: Who do you want to be for Halloween?


The Bean: Julie Newmar.


Yes, knew which Catwoman she wanted to be.


And as luck would have it, The Bean's boyfriend (gasp) was going to be Batman for Halloween.  And he was not going as the tough, new gravelly-voiced Dark Knight.  No, The Boyfriend was going as the 1960's camp-tastic Caped Crusader.

Pow!! Zap!! Crack!!

"Daddy, Did Julie Newmar Marry Adam West?"



Zoinks!!

One Batty Family

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 7
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy


The DW is in the Halloween spirit.  OK, The Bean and The Butterfly are in the Halloween spirit and The DW's just along for the ride.


We have spider web stuff on our bushes.  Now that it's rained, it looks like someone rolled our house.


We have skeletons and witches pasted in our windows.  At any given time, one or more of them could be drooping to the floor.


We have ghosts the size of shuttlecocks hanging from our trees.  Some are about 3 feet off the ground.  The Buffett Puppy hasn't noticed them yet, but he will.


And now for the bats -

The Butterfly has determined that bats are cuddly little creatures who wouldn't hurt a fly "except for that's what they eat".

The DW bought a set of 3 bats - one big, one medium & one small.  "It's a bat family," The DW explains.

"Nnnooooooo!!!!" The Butterfly screams.

"Huh?"

"That's not a bat family!"

"Sure it is," The DW soothes.  "See - Daddy, Mommy, Baby."

"That's not a bat family.  The baby bat needs a baby sister."

Really?

"Baby Sister!! Baby Sister!! Baby Sister!!"

Back to Target it is...

Pop + Sizzle = Wrinkled Nose

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 7
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy

When The Bean was but 1 years-old, I first exposed her to Coca~Cola.

Cautiously, she took a sip.  You could tell that the carbonated bubbles were bursting inside her nose.  She made a face.

Then she wanted more and more until I had to take it away from her.  I thought better of a caffeinated 1 year-old on a sugar high.

At New Years Eve that year, I tried a similar experiment with Champagne.

The DW wasn't thrilled at the prospect of either a drunk or hungover 2-year-old.  My argument that it was really good Champagne didn't stand up all that well.

Fast Forward.

We met Miss K, The Butterfly's Pre-K teacher out for dinner last week. 

The reason Miss K had Pop Rocks with her in the first place is somewhat mysterious.  The fact that The Bean and The Butterfly really liked them is less so.

I suggested to The Bean that she put a big handful in her mouth, then take a big swig of Sprite.

The DW glared. 

Apparently, she didn't think that was such a good idea either.

Good thing I didn't suggest she chase them with Champagne.

Hmmm...

You're Not Paying Attention

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 7
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy

Oh, the things we wish we could say...

For some reason, we went to a restaurant on a school night.  We tend to avoid doing this because the DW works pretty long hours and The Bean and The Butterfly still insist on the full battery of computer time, television programs and lullabies.


But there we were awaiting appetizers and chocolate milks to be delivered to our table.


We weren't exactly getting world class service.


The Bean's Sprite tasted a lot like water.  This is because it was water.  So our waiter vanished from our view and returned utterly astonished that the offending H20 had not miraculously transformed to Sprite.

Water to wine I'll buy.  But I'm pretty sure Jesus didn't do a lot with carbonated beverages. 

The Butterfly let her opinion known.  "He's not paying attention," she said.  She didn't exactly whisper.

"Shhh!" said the DW.

"Why?" asked The Butterfly.

"It's impolite."

"But he is not paying attention."

"It's still impolite.  What if he hears you and feels bad?"

"He won't hear me because he's not paying attention." 

Game.  Set.  Match.

Now We Are Six

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 7
The Butterfly: Age 6
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy

In a previous post - You're Not Coming to My Birthday Party - The Butterfly announces that The Bean isn't invited to her party.  Yes, she's going to have a party at one of those jumpy-around places while The Bean is to sit at home and cry and not go to the jumpy-around place and have cake.  In this scenario, The Bean will wish she was a better big sister.  


That was The Butterfly's plan.


However, The Butterfly realized that there would be less presents if The Bean was not in attendance.  Surely an exception could be made, even for the most horrible of Beans.


It should be noted that The Bean and The Butterfly are generally simpatico.  They play together daily.  They sit together on the bus.  They hold occasional sleepovers in one another's room, although these don't always go so well.


But still.


The Butterfly is now 6 years-old and knows where her bread is buttered.  It would upset Grammy greatly if The Bean were denied entrance to the festivities.  It might even result in getting a lesser birthday gift. 



And we can't have that.


So The Butterfly bites the bullet.  She sacrifices a slab of cake and a juice box for one more wrapped box with frilly ribbon added to her stash.  She wants one more Barbie added to the collection.


So The Butterfly is nice.  For about 48 hours.  Once the party is over and the loot collected, she reminds The Bean what a horrible big sister she is.  She informs The Bean that these are HER toys and there will be NO sharing.


The Butterfly had discovered a loophole in the process.


God save us if she becomes a lawyer.

You Can Do Magic

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 7
The Butterfly: Age 5
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy

About 3 years ago, we were at a Wendy's somewhere between Helen, GA and civilization.  And The Bean was on a tear.



She had been introduced to the concept of the Frosty a time or two before, so she was pretty focused on getting one.  Not focused enough to eat any chicken nuggets or even French Fries with extra ketchup.  But focused all the same.  This was driving the DW crazy.


Like a lot of restaurants, Wendy's takes the opportunity to take easy listening rock, such as Dan Fogelberg or Fleetwood Mac, and make them even easier listening by stripping out the lyrics.


They did the same to America's You Can Do Magic.

Unfortunately for the DW, I knew the words.


I serenade The Bean with the song.  This does not help matters in the least.


"You can do magic," I sing. "You can have anything that you desire."

The DW was getting perturbed.


"You know darn well, when you cast your spell, you get your way..."

"You're not helping," warns the DW.


The Bean was digging this.  Her Daddy is serenading her with a song about how she will get anything she wants. And she wants a Frosty.


I am giggling uncontrollably.  The Bean will be getting her frozen dairy whether she eats her chicken nuggets or not. This is, perhaps, not the best parenting technique.  But her eyes have grown expanded from pretty blue orbs into really, really big pretty blue orbs.  She probably doesn't enjoy my singing voice, but her 4-year-old mind is wrapped around the lyrics.


"Do you really want her to grow up thinking," the DW chides, "that all she has to do is smile and her Daddy will give in to her every whim?"


Well, yes.


"Fine," the DW concedes.


As if on cue, the song ends and the Eagles follow.


Pretty (sic) girls just seem to find out early
How to open doors with just a smile...

That Bean.  She is going to make some poor sap miserable.



And he'll have her Daddy to blame.

Butterfly Rage or Constructive Mess?

As always - The Cast of Characters

Me (The Daddy)
The Bean: Age 7
The Butterfly: Age 5
The Darling Wife
The Buffett Puppy

The picture probably says it all, but I'll give you the background anyway.

Act I


The Butterfly gets off the bus.  She's happy because school is out and The Buffett Puppy and I are waiting for her at the bus stop.


OK, maybe she's just happy to see The Buffett Puppy.


"It's ballet day!" I cheerfully announce.


And away we go...


"I don't want to go to ballet!  Ballet is stupid!"


"But it's Wednesday.  Wednesday is always ballet day."


"Not this Wednesday."


"Your cousin will be there.  Don't you want to see her at ballet?"


"No!  I want to eat Pop Tarts!"


As documented in Ballet Hair, I have a bit of a problem with ballet day as it is.  So I'm feeling both a sense of guilt and one of relief, when she says this.  OK, mostly relief.


I give her Pop Tarts and call the DW, who, for some reason, answers her phone.



"The Butterfly doesn't want to go to ballet.  She just wants to eat Pop Tarts." 



The Butterfly gets to talk on the phone.  Actually, she just screams into the phone and hangs up.


I assert my manly stature.  "OK, you don't have to go to ballet.  But no TV for you.  You can go to your room."


"I don't want to go to my room!  I want to go to ballet!  I want to see my cousin!"


It is important to note that ballet is about 20 minutes away, and it takes me about 20 minutes to get her dressed.  Ballet Hair not included.


Oh, the class has already started and we're still at home.


"It's too late," I say.  "Ballet will be over by the time we get there."


"You're an idiot!" she screams and slams her door.


Time passes.  The Butterfly calms down.  She emerges from her room.  She is sorry she pointed out the fact that I'm an idiot.


Act II


Apology accepted.  On with the TV.

It appears that The Buffet Puppy has eschewed all his toys and chewed up a roll of paper towels.  I, get this, look for the vacuum cleaner.


This is when I notice The Butterfly's room.  It looks like a bomb went off.  The DW is not going to be thrilled at my household management.


But instead, the DW helps her clean the mess and discovers that about half her clothes no longer fit.  She packs them into bags.  She is gearing up for consignment.


Butterfly Rage = Consignment Sale = Cash In Pocket.


Such a smart girl, that Butterfly is.