Hans und Franz go to New York

It all started with a loom I found on an online fiber equipment page.  We were on vacation last weekend when my mother and I trolled the 'net looking for looms for our studio.  The ad looked good. We made contact. We negotiated a price. We picked a travel date. We drove to New York.

The seller indicated we'd need several people to move the loom. "It is heavy. Bring people who can haul," She wrote in her email.  So I did. My father drove, and my sister tagged along. Or rather, I was the one tagging along, since I know what looms look like. I'm such a girl when it comes to hauling and lifting.  I'm a weakling of the highest order.  My sister, Sara, on the other hand is strong as an ox. Maybe that's not flattering for a female, but I have always been in awe of her superior strength. I knew we were ok.

We drove the three plus hours to New York, traveling through the town of Sleepy Hollow where there was a cool statue of the Headless Horseman.  Along the way, my father and sister started joking around. "I am Hans," he said. "Und I am Franz," Sara replied. "Und we are hear to haul a loom." "Hey you. Girly-man...can't you lift that?" "Yah, Vee need to pahmp you ahp, you girly-man." They amused themselves in this manner for a good ten to fifteen minutes, laughing at themselves.

Arriving at the seller's house, she greeted us in the drive with her husband by her side. He might have passed for a shorter, weaker, thinner, Tony Shaloub. She showed us the loom on the second floor, and Dad and Sara began contemplating the best way to carry it down the stairs and out the door to the trailer.

 "I dont want to sound sexist," Tony said. "But I guess I'll have to be the other man."  Dad picked up on end, and Tony tried to grab the other. He grunted, and groaned and maybe, just maybe got the loom off the ground half a millimeter.  Sara gently pushed him aside, hauled the loom up over her head to get it above the barrier at the top of the steps in one fell swoop.  She bore the brunt of the weight walking backwards down the stairs, and with Dad's help, carted the loom out through the garage and proceeded to help load it up.

"Boy, Sara," Tony said. "You're strong. Really strong." She gave him a look like, uh, yeah. I know. You Girly-mahn.

We piled back into Dad's Explorer, waved good-bye, and broke out into laughter.

"I dont want to sound Sexist..." Sara said.

Hannah's Chicken Suit Pt 2.

I suppose I pride myself on being a bit of an unconventional mommy. It's not so much that I try to be eccentric. It's just that I encourage my children to discover who they are, rather than be pushed into a mold of my making.  I can't help it if they express themselves in wonderful, and sometimes wacky ways.

We spent this weekend in the mountains, snow tubing.  Hannah asked if she could bring her chicken suit, and since there was really no good reason to say no, I gave her permission.  Her cousins had great fun with the chicken suit, taking turns dressing up, dancing around, flapping their wings. The adults had fun laughing at their antics.

On the drive home yesterday afternoon, Jeremy looked in his rear-view mirror.

"Psst." He grabbed my attention from the book I was reading and said out of the side of his mouth, "Turn your head and look in the back of the van."

I did as he suggested, and guffawed. Yes guffawed. There's no other word to explain the burst of laughter that came out of my mouth.  Jeremy could hardly see to drive from the tears streaming down his face. I could barely breathe I was laughing so hard.  Joshua and Ruth were fast asleep. Hannah, however, was sitting in her booster seat, talking to herself, while wearing the head part of the costume.

So, who knows, maybe I'm setting my kids up for needing therapy in the future. But I figure, kids grow up so fast.  There's only a small portion of time in a person's life when one can get away with wearing a chicken suit while engaging in normal, every day activities. Might as well let Hannah live life to the fullest while she can.

Overheard...

I carpool because our school district is too small to warrant a bus.  Mondays and Thursdays are Chorus days, and the kids go in a half hour early for practice. And every Monday and Thursday, I pick up Josh's friend, whose name also happens to be Joshua (named for his father, Joshua), and the little taggalong brother, Trevor.

Joshua jumped into the van, and said, "Hey Josh, you get to the castle yet?"
Josh replied, "Yeah, I beat the game two times."
"Did you see the bug in there?" Joshua asked.
"Yeah, so?" Josh said.
"Didja beat it?"
"No way, it's too hard. Must be a high level bug." Josh said.
"I beat a level nine bug." Joshua bragged.
"Dude! I've only beaten a level seven. Dude!" Astonished Josh turned to goggle at Joshua in the back seat.
"Dude. It was hard. I had to like spit on it an' stuff." Joshua said.
"Dude, did you ever have to use the super acid spit?" Josh asked.
"Yeah dude. That spit is so cool." Joshua replied.
"EWwww," I said, "What kind of game is this, bugs and super acid spit? This sounds like a guy game for sure."
"Dude," Josh said, "It's just like rock, paper, scissors"
"Yeah, only way more cool," Joshua added.

"Did you just call me dude?"