Puzzles are puzzling

'Twas the night before Aug 12,

And all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring,

Not even a mouse"

Ok - it was more like 4:30am...and there was some stirring going on.

A familiar refrain is heard:

"Daddy!!! I need your help!"

I roll over - this must be a dream. No one needs help with anything at 4:30. It just isn't possible. Everyone is supposed to be sleeping.

But no. Not in my little house. Sleeping past 6am is a luxury. And besides - it's 4:30....and that means it's time to get up...run around the house in your bare feet - and look for things that require the assistance of the oh so lovable father figure upstairs.

"DADDY!!! Are you coming to help me?"

My eyes pop open. I don't smell smoke (that's a good thing), I don't hear the fire alarm (that too is a good thing)...and I have no idea what could be so important that my help is required at 4:30am. The birds are still asleep - so why isn't my son?

Good question indeed!

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddy!!!"

Fine. Now I'm curious. Maybe its the real deal this time? Maybe - just maybe...there is a legitimate reason to be up so freaking early - and calling out my name. Oddly enough...Mommy's name doesn't get called at such an ungodly hour. Just mine.

So I go downstairs to see what the hell is going on. And what do I see?

A little boy who has found a 100 piece puzzle (its a space one...lots of planets and stuff) and its strewn across the floor.

So I ask my son, "Well little man? What's so important that I have to be out of bed so early?"

He looks up...little brown eyes looking oh so cute and states matter of factly, "You need to help me put together this puzzle!"

"I do - do I?"

"Yes - that's right. It's a big puzzle - and only you are allowed to help me."

I think to myself - this is a scam. Only me? What's that all about? How'd I get so lucky? And yet - I feel honored.

"Why yes of course Nicholas! I'd love to help you put the puzzle together. Can we do it later?"

"No! You need to help me today!"

Ask a stupid question.... ;)

So I sit down with my son (who looks really cool in his skull motif pajamas) and we start with the puzzle. Border first - then the rest.

It's going really well. And as we're about done, my son turns to me and states the following:

"Now Daddy! As you can see - we are almost done the puzzle. There are only a few pieces left...and yet I think there is a problem. I think you're hiding the last piece of the puzzle. You always do that. So you might as well just hand it over now before the trouble starts."

His little hand is sticking out. Waiting for me to hand over the last piece of the puzzle that he is sure that I have.

And of course I do. So I hand it over.

Next time I'm hiding two pieces dude. You have to get up pretty early to fool Daddy. 4:30 seems to be early enough.

Blankets: For More Than Just Keeping Warm...or So It Would Seem!

My son is crafty. My son is convincing. And my son is very, very smart.

While spending time in the kitchen recently, I hear a sweet little voice from upstairs saying, "Daddy!! Come help me!".

"What?"

"I need your help?"

"With what?"

"Things!"

"What kind of things?"

"Important things!"

"How important?"

"Very important things! Now - will will you please come and help me?"

Sigh...."of course."

At this point - I start to climb the stairs to go see what's up.

And what was up?

A prank is what was up! Pretty good one too actually!

As I'm halfway up the stairs - a big fuzzy blanket comes flying down the stairs....and traps me!

"Haaaaa haaaaa Daddy!!! You're doomed! You are stuck under my magic blanket!"

Somethings to ponder here:

The "Ha ha" part. Hmmmm.....ok - it was pretty funny.

The "doomed" part. Geeeez little man....get over yourself. It was a blanket - and I lived to type about it. Doomed I certainly was not!

The "my magic blanket" part. The blanket may very well be magical indeed. I discovered this fabled blanket in a hotel room...and it magically left with me upon checkout. So....maybe he's on to something? Maybe the blanket is magical? But...it's my damn magic blanket. I borrowed it...a long time ago - way before I met my son. So the blanket is mine little dude!

Upon escaping from the "magic blanket" - I proceeded to take it with me upstairs....and then toss it over Nicholas - and proceeded to tickle him until he was screaming with laughter. Oh...and I said he was doomed too! :)

One day I need to re-tell the story of the little boy who cried wolf to my son. I may not be so gullible the next time he needs "help". He's always got a scam brewing it would seem....wonder where he picked up that trait?

Likely Mommy. :)

Dead artists charge too much for thier stuff!

How do I explain to my son about the concept of money - and the fact that I don't have several million just lying around? Ok - maybe I do have a million or so just kicking around....you guys have been great clicking the Google ads on my blog.

My son has a fixation. A potentially expensive one.

At the age of 7 - he has decided that Vincent Van Gogh is (was?) a righteous dude - and that Daddy really should get out there and buy an original work of art. When I was 7 - I had stuff up on the walls of my room. I don't remember what any of that crap was...but I do know I did not have any Van Gogh pictures hanging up.

My son does. Photocopies pictures for now...originals if he gets his wish.

I blame Baby Einstein for this! It started with the videos...of which he has them all committed to memory. From that...a Van Gogh obsession started. And now I'm expected to just "go out and buy a Van Gogh picture - a real one!"....and I'm supposed to do this...."Now!!!". Um yeah dude...I'll just head out to Wal-mart and see if they have any....

My little dude sure does have some expensive tastes! You see those Group of 7 prints on the wall little man? They're called prints....as in reproductions....fake in other words! And those suckers costs over $300 each! It'll be a garbage free day in Toronto before I sell of a kidney and go about buying a Van Gogh original! I'm not even sure one kidney would be enough.

I'll give him credit though....at least he picked a Dutch artist to get into. Ain't Dutch? Ain't Much!

Now click an ad! Nickels needs a Van Gogh! :)

Memos from the Master

An interesting phenomenon is taking place in my house. My son, the very verbal autistic kid, has taken to communicating his thought process (read: demands!) to us through the use of memos.

It is now a very frequent occurrence in my house to receive either a handwritten note...or a computer printout (he's 7 and has mastered Word! I know people my age who still have trouble with it.) detailing what he wants.

For example:

"Dear Daddy

I don't want to go to summer camp with Erica today. I'd rather stay home and hang out with you!

Thank you very much,

Nicolas, L"

Or:

"Dear Mom and Dad

Please exchange our old mousetrap game for a new mousetrap game. The one I have is missing pieces and it's just no fun anymore

Sincerely,

Nicholas, L."

(And yes...I took him to Toys 'R Us....handed him a $50 and followed him while he marched to the exact spot where the Mousetrap games were.)

Even better:

"Dear Mommy

I want to go to Great Wolf Lodge, and just ignore the talking animals, and the talking tree. We will find the water park, and our room. It's right in Niagara Falls.

Yours sincerely,

Nicholas L

P.S. Can your whole family come too?"

He even writes notes to his teachers:

"Dear Mr. Zummach

I'm enjoying camp. And I'm sending this note to you for being the best teacher this year. I can't wait to come back to school next year. Thanks for your support!

Sincerely,

Nicholas L.

P.S. Can I see you next time?"

And a sad one:

"Dear Mommy

I was sad today, because of the Baby Einstein DVD. It really upset me. Please send me some information on sobbing, as I think I might be hurt.

Yours truly,

Your lonesome child

Nicholas, L.

P.S. Just how can I stop crying?"

He now knows....he googled how to stop crying and found some WikiHow page on how to stop crying. Amazing! The lonesome child comment kind of got to me...I think he knows he's going to be an only child....as much as I wish he wasn't.

What really blows me away about Nicholas' notes is the fact that he is making use of contractions, forms clear and concise sentences...and doesn't need spell check. Ever.

This is one smart kid...just hope I can keep up with him! :)

I got scammed v2

Chaos!

Mayhem!

Mass destruction! 

Oh the humanity!

And what the hell happened to my bacon?

Oh wait.  Let me see...oh who, oh who could it have been?

Could it have been Kevin Bacon looking to liberate his namesake?

No.

It was Nicholas.  The master of You Tube and all things trains related has scored yet again.  And this time around he scored with style.

Allow me to elaborate if you will...

I made bacon this morning.  Yes - faithful reader - a lot of bacon is consumed in this house.  Probably too much...but life is short, and you just never know when it'll all come crashing down (my bet is Jan 6, 2253...on my birthday - but long after I'm gone)...and really - what's too much bacon in a world of global warming, the Taliban - and David Miller as mayor of Toronto?

I provided my son with three pieces of bacon this morning.  That's the limit we try to set....but we need to keep an eye on things it would seem.

So here's how it all went down:

Nicholas was watching You Tube and eating bacon.  I was sitting on the couch debating whether I should go eat the bacon that I made (note to self - learn to trust my baconintuition)

My son...runs to the kitchen.  Top speed.

My son makes a bit of kitchen noise.

My son comes running back with a fistful of bacon.  At least 4 pieces (there should have been more...I think he had already snagged those ones).  I'm not kidding - he's got a fistful of bacon and he's working on mowing it down.  And laughing the whole time!

I make a comment....something to the effect about that actually being Daddy's bacon.

The response?

"Nope!  You left it on the counter for too long.  It's fair game!"

I can't argue this.  I happen to agree.  I think I've done the same to my wife.  I'll have to ask...

"Well...at least grab a napkin so you don't get the mouse all greasy and nasty"

"Ok"

Back to the kitchen...and I follow.

Behold!!!!

One last piece of bacon.

It's there!

I can see it....

Or at least...saw it.

I moved too slow on that one as well....and well...opportunity missed.

When I enquired as to why Daddy's last piece of bacon was stolen....

"Because it was tasty and I like bacon!"

I sigh...it's not as if he's actually wrong.  I try not to engage him in discussions where Daddy ends up looking clueless...or baconless as the case may be.  Shaking my head I proceed to get a bowl of cereal...snap, crackle, pop just isn't the same....

At least he handed me a glass of his blueberry juice...with a comment that I need to eat more healthy - as I don't seem to eat much.

No kidding dude.