“Man,” I thought. “What cool kids I've got.” They were sitting in the living room engrossed in what I thought was a rock-u-mentary chronicling the storied punk rock band, The Ramones. I could hear them chanting—Gabba, gabba.

Cool! I sat down to catch the program myself. Granted, I'm not a huge Ramones fan but I appreciate their music and I figured a documentary about them would surely be pretty interesting.

“That's not Joey Ramone,” I said to no one in particular and everyone just the same.

“Who's Joe? Dad, that's DJ Lance.”

“What in the world are you guys watching?” I asked a little heartbroken, my pride bubble having just been exploded with the visage of my kids engrossed with a group of fuzzy puppets gett'n jiggy wit a DJ in a furry orange fez.

“Dad!! It's Yo Gabba Gabba!” they collectively shouted at me, insinuating “be quiet and let us watch the show!”

I sat. I watched. In silence. In stunned disbelief.

Halfway through the show I felt as if I had just dropped acid and it was starting to kick in. Or maybe the shrooms were turning on me. Either way, this trip was getting freaky!

Have you seen ... ]]> http://edlamaze.com/2008/08/30/gabba-gabba-we-accept-you.aspx/feed 8 http://edlamaze.com/2008/08/20/i-wouldnt-be-caught-dead-in-that-rag.aspx http://edlamaze.com/2008/08/20/i-wouldnt-be-caught-dead-in-that-rag.aspx#comments Wed, 20 Aug 2008 08:38:00 +0000 Ed http://edlamaze.com/2008/08/i-wouldnt-be-caught-dead-in-that-rag/ Wife:  That doesn't look good together.

Me:  I know but I couldn't find anything else.

Wife:  What about a dress?

Me:  She refused to wear a dress.

Wife:  She's two, Ed.  She'll wear a dress. 

I left the room at this point in search of other acceptable clothing for her highness, Miss Zella.  I had already been to the attic once this morning.  Maura made her way into the room to offer up the green dress, the same green dress she had refused me just moments ago.

**cue the screaming---lots of screaming---a whole lot of screaming---screaming similar to I just ripped your arm off and hit you with the bloody end screaming**

I can't be sure, but I think I heard the words, "NO!" and "I don't like that!" 

Several times.

The whole exchange took but a few seconds.  My wife exited the room with the green dress in hand, half smiling, fully shaking her head in disbelief at Zella's exertion of her newly realized fashion independence.  She looked at me, waiting, knowing it was coming.

Me:  You were saying.....
... ]]> http://edlamaze.com/2008/08/20/i-wouldnt-be-caught-dead-in-that-rag.aspx/feed 10 http://edlamaze.com/2008/08/17/expect-a-call-later.aspx http://edlamaze.com/2008/08/17/expect-a-call-later.aspx#comments Sun, 17 Aug 2008 10:42:00 +0000 Ed http://edlamaze.com/2008/08/expect-a-call-later/ He said he'd be alright, that everything was fine.  He barely looked back.  Then he turned and ran up to me, jumped into my outstretched arms and gave me a hug and a kiss.  "That's for later.  I hope you have fun," he said to me.

I was torn between celebrating the occasion or nonchalantly passing it off as commonplace.  I chose the latter, hoping that by not drawing too much attention he wouldn't feel overwhelmed.  I feared he had yet to grasp the reality of what was about to take place.  In his small voice, childlike and innocent, he reassured me.  Confident.  He was ready.  He'd be fine.

Two weeks ago, Zane turned six years old.  Tonight, he is away from me, from Mom, from sisters and brother.  He is away from us all for the very first time.  He is spending the night with his aunt and uncle who, for his birthday, got him tickets to see the Clippers, our local minor league baseball team.   First pitch was not until 7:05pm and therefore he is staying with them and will return home in the morning.

He told me before I left that he'd call before I went to bed, "you know.  To make sure you're OK and to tell you goodnight." 

As promised, he called.  I lied and told him everything here was great.  (I miss him terribly.)  Then he broke my heart.  I asked if he had scored any autographs (tonight was autograph night with Major League greats on hand to sign).  He matter-of-factly said, "Yeah.  I got them all.  Two times."

"You got them to sign twice?" I asked.

"Yeah, I got one for me and one for Grandma."

My little boy is away from me tonight, for the first time.  He's not concerned about being alone, though.  He's too busy trying to do something nice for his grandmother and making sure that I'm OK without him.


... ]]> http://edlamaze.com/2008/08/17/expect-a-call-later.aspx/feed 10 http://edlamaze.com/2008/07/29/oohh-fluffy.aspx http://edlamaze.com/2008/07/29/oohh-fluffy.aspx#comments Tue, 29 Jul 2008 21:16:00 +0000 Ed http://edlamaze.com/2008/07/oohh-fluffy/ Most states have Good Samaritan Laws designed to protect health care workers who provide assistance to people in need of medical care outside of a hospital setting.  You know, guy falls in the supermarket because he's choking on the grapes he couldn't wait to pay for and you stomp on his stomach--Ala the Safetylich.  That's my term for Heimlich at a distance.  It's a hands off approach lending aide--you can't be too safe, right?  I mean if a guy's gonna eat half a bag of grapes in the grocery store before he pays for them who knows where he's been.

So, anyway, I was just wondering if we should maybe extend the Good Samaritan Laws to include acts perpetrated by well-meaning children.  Acts by children who should know better but want to help in whatever manner.  Usually, said help invariably ends up detriment and rather than praise the child reaps rebuke.

My case in point.  A few days ago we had made a run to the store for a few essentials one of them being laundry detergent.  When we arrived home, I asked Zoë to please bring the fresh supplies upstairs to the laundry room.  I went about the task of preparing our lunch not giving the matter another thought.  Before long, I heard water running and in a panic rushed upstairs to see what the twins had gotten into.  I've had my issues with the twins and water upstairs before so I'm sure you can understand.

The twins were fine, playing on the floor.  Dry!  I then set about to determine the source of the running water and quickly found out that is was the washing machine.  Zoë and Zane had taken it upon themselves to lend a bit of assistance with the laundry.  And this is what is left of the brand new bottle of fabric softener.

... ]]> http://edlamaze.com/2008/07/29/oohh-fluffy.aspx/feed 30 http://edlamaze.com/2008/07/26/a-grain-of-rice.aspx http://edlamaze.com/2008/07/26/a-grain-of-rice.aspx#comments Sat, 26 Jul 2008 09:15:00 +0000 Ed http://edlamaze.com/2008/07/a-grain-of-rice/ Throughout the course of any particular day I am given to ponder.  I do it often, sometimes to excess neglecting chores or forgetting to complete simple requested tasks.  People might call it daydreaming.  Others may call it attention-deficit.  Still others might say that I'm manifesting some latent inner turmoil with my inability to accept things as they are, caught between a drive to change the world I see around me and just accepting things as they are .  And of course there are those who would just call me lazy.  What do I think?  Well, I just told you--I ponder.  Sometimes things just need to be thunk.

Last Sunday, as I was cleaning up the kitchen after the evening feast--I pondered.  Feast may be an overstatement here.  I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea.  It was leftover stir fry from our recent trip to a Japanese steakhouse.  It was the kids' first exposure and they could not have been more excited.  The art of food being prepared in front of them--with flair--was engrossing.  Zia had a few issues with the fire display but other than that they all seemed to have a blast.  Zoë almost caught the flying egg in her mouth and everyone got a real kick when the cook at the table next to us bounced a shrimp tail off of my head.  Good times!

So I'm cleaning, sweeping up rice from just about every square inch of surface space in our kitchen--there was even rice in the living room ... ]]> http://edlamaze.com/2008/07/26/a-grain-of-rice.aspx/feed 15