Crumpled Home

(reading to the kids in the car)

Dad: … Dun dun daaaaaaaaahhhhhhh… That’s the end of the chapter guys.

LR: Daddy! Read more!

RJ: Yeah, keep going!

Dad: We’re almost there. It’s time to stop.

LR: If you stop now, I will not be pleased. There will be consequences, Daddy… Consequences.

RJ: Yeah! You better keep reading! I’m reaching my limit…

LR: (dramatically) CONSEQUENCES!

RJ: … and you wont like me when I reach my limit. I’m just like Mom!

Dad: True. Normally, Mom is just lovely to be around…

Mom: (dark, foreboding look)

Dad: … But it’s never safe to be around Mom when she’s reached her limit.

Mom: (darker, more threatening look)

Dad: I guess I’m pushing the limit, right now.

LR: CONSEQUENCES!!!!!

RJ: I’m getting to my limit, Daddy! I’m warning you!

LR: !!!  CONSEQUENCES !!!!!

RJ: !!! LIMITS !!!

Dad: Okay… Okay… A few more pages then.

Do not push his limits, or there will be consequences!

Here are some random drawings and pictures that have shown up lately.

Mouse Avenger #12, by RJ

Mouse Avenger is an original series that RJ has been creating. Each has a detailed, full-colour front cover with a series of black and white drawings inside. Most episodes involve battling some kind of dragons and/or scorpions. Mouse Avenger is pretty ruthless with his sword and shield.

The inside of Dad’s birthday card, from LR:

Why yes... Yes it does...

Dad and the kids were doing some drawings on the weekend and they were particularly proud of what they came up with…

Horse and Tree, by LR

Haunted Mansion, by RJ

Haunted Mansion (colour), by RJ and Daddy

Haunted Mansion is a book in the school library that RJ hasn’t read, but seems to know an awful lot about. Those are ghosts chasing the people and I do believe those are severed heads hanging off the legs of the evil crab monster.

(while reading before bedtime)

RJ: Dad, you know Tom is just a kid when he starts the Beast Quest books, but at the end, he’s grown up?

Dad: Yeah. All those adventures must have taken a long time.

RJ: Well… He doesn’t ever buy new clothes.

Dad: I guess he doesn’t.

RJ: So at the end, he must be feeling pretty squished in such small clothes! And they’re probably all falling apart, too!

(a few weeks ago)

So RJ just had a massive meltdown, a full-on tantrum. We had the whole deal: screaming, tears, rage and finally just incredibly sad and dejected… The reason this time?

We refused to buy him a book.

Yes, we are cruel, harsh parents and yes, we are aware he’ll always have trouble fitting in with the other kids at school, but we refuse to have silly, made-up stories taking up so much of our childrens’ time. If we let them, they’d spend hours just sitting there on the couch doing absolutely nothing except filling their heads with empty nonsense. Half of the books appear to be filled with advertising anyway, to get you to buy the following books in the series. Mr. Dickens, we are sooooo onto you.

Continue reading

A couple of weeks ago LR headed off to camp and we decided to have a movie night with RJ so he could enjoy something special. Considering his imagination, we picked an older movie with a fun story (The Adventures of Baron Munchausen). Things went fairly well, although he was a bit bored during the beginning. Part way through, Mom and I briefly turned and discussed something. I’m not sure what it was, but it was probably something critically important, like what the dismembered body parts that the cat recently dragged in originally belonged to, or when I would finally get around to gluing down the plastic strips on the edges of the cabinet doors in the kitchen.

Conversation over, we looked up and saw RJ, eyes very wide, staring at the screen. On screen, in the typically surreal and maniacal styling of Terry Gilliam, a horrifying, winged variant of the Grim Reaper / Angel of Death loomed over someones body, coaxing a soul from their mouth as flames and screaming noises roared in the background.

I quickly realised I had forgotten a fairly important part of the movie… and that I’m no longer in the running for the Parent of the Year Award. Less than a moment later, the movie was paused, the screen was blanked and we were asking RJ if he wanted to watch something else.

RJ: (quietly) Yes, please.

The movie got switched off and replaced with the safe, inoffensive (yet mildly nauseating) world of “The Land Before Time“, but it appears the damage was already done. To be fair, the scene was only thirty seconds long, but it does set up the young girl in her role as heroine, so it’s fairly important. Considering the last time I watched the movie was twenty years ago, I’m not surprised I had forgotten it.

My memory — or more accurately, my lack of memory — is an impressive thing. Yesterday I went to the shops to buy a few things, most importantly some spinach.  Now spinach was not only requested before I left, but was actually written down on a shopping list that I carried in my hand and it (spinach, not the shopping list) was a critical ingredient of the evening’s meal. Spinach was therefore very important and more than once while walking through the store I told myself, “Must not forget the spinach.” Much to my poor, suffering wife’s chagrin, the spinach is still sitting uneaten on a shelf in the vegetable department, quite safe from our hungry family.

The fallout from the movie incident didn’t occur until the next day and considering our previous experiences with RJ, it was pretty mild. It all started with RJ spending some time with his lego, working hard on a secret project.

RJ: I made something. Do you like it?

Dad: (channelling Keanu Reeves)… whoah….

RJ: It’s the Death Fairy.

Dad: It’s awesome. How long did that take?

RJ: Just this morning, but some bits are falling off, can you help me get them to stay?

Dad: Sure thing.

(Progress is made reinforcing some sections and changing others.)

RJ: Did you know the Death Fairy can smell better than a bear? That’s how he knows you are going to die.

Dad: Most people call him the Angel of Death. He’s not real, you know.

RJ: I know. It’s just a story.

Dad: Are you scared of it?

RJ: Not really. I already know lots about him.

Dad: Like what?

RJ: He can never be killed because he has no weakness. He also has many children that do what he says and help protect him… and a mum that stays at home and protects his house.

Dad: So he’s pretty dangerous then.

RJ: YES! Do you know the worst part?

Dad: What’s that?

RJ: He takes your soul and your ideas and puts them in a jar and he never lets them out. He loves to look at the little stars in it.

Dad: How does he do that?

RJ: He has the closest looker microscope, with the closest looking sensors. It’s the only way to see the stars.

Dad: So where did he come from anyway?

RJ: Well… Death Fairies used to be normal people and they lived on another planet. They were living in a house and it got buried under rocks and they died. After that, they felt a bit zombieish and woke up again… and then they were Death Fairies.

RJ's rendition of the Death Fairy, aka the Angel of Death.

We have a holiday coming up, in which we’ll be travelling overseas to spend some time on a tropical island. As part of our preparation, and to generate some excitement in the kids, Mom was reading through some of the possible destinations, an elephant park, a sea turtle rescue habitat, the Enchanted Monkey Forest…

Whoah! Everyone’s eyes lit up. A monkey forest? And not just any boring monkey forest… an ENCHANTED Monkey Forest! That sounded awesome!

Visions of tree houses and hundreds of friendly monkeys chattering away filled our heads. They’d do tricks for us, we’d clap and laugh; they’d dance for treats. A hat salesman would offer a dazzling array of coloured caps for just fifty cents each beneath a tree full of becapped monkeys. The kids might find a very friendly one and carry it to us, begging to bring it home as a pet. Perhaps a man with a yellow hat would wave, ‘Hello’. It just sounded magical…

A few webby clicks later later, reality had set in. The truth, as it turns out, is not as wonderful, full of glitter and simian camaraderie as our imaginations would have us believe.

The monkey forest is infested with Balinese long tailed macaques. Generally, they keep to themselves and the temple area. Although from time to time, much like hordes of school kids descending on the mall after school, bands of them will get together and raid nearby villages.

Now despite the fact that there are signs up, saying “Do not feed the monkeys”, there is usually someone nearby selling bananas (I presume he’s equipped with an electric monkey prod, monkey mace or a full suit of medieval armour). Feeding the monkeys, however, is not recommended. Nor is carrying food, shiny objects, or anything of any sort potentially appealing to a monkey, because the large macaques have no compunction against climbing people and beating them over the head, snarling ferociously, and brutally tearing whatever objects they might have on them away. Finally, monkeys can be infected by rabies and Hepatitis C, so any bites, scratches or broken skin are a serious infection risk. Monkey business is surprisingly serious stuff.

A useful guide to surviving the monkey forest provides these confidence inspiring tips:

• Watch your step, because monkeys can become aggressive if they are stepped on.
• Stay on paved paths, because monkeys can become aggressive if you wander into forested areas.
• Feeding the monkeys can be very dangerous.
• Loose items should be kept in the car or bus and kept out of the sight of the monkeys.
• Do not try to retrieve food or objects taken by the monkeys.
• Never threaten a monkey or try to tug an object back from a monkey.
• Keep a close watch on children.
• Do not try to touch the monkeys.
• If they attempt to climb on you, just walk away slowly.
• Do not tease the monkeys.
• Do not stare directly at a monkey.

This information was hammered home when we talked to a friend of ours who was actually bitten by a monkey while visiting. According to her, it was about as much fun as it sounds, i.e. about as much fun as a barrel full of rabid macaques.

So, with enthusiasm blunted and hopes singed, it looks like we’ll be giving the monkey forest a miss this time around. My dreams of driving across the countryside in a big rig with a new found monkey pal will have to be set aside. Fortunately, there are plenty of other exciting destinations on the island.

And not to fear, we wont be bored — this year there’s a new bit of tropical excitement infesting the Balinesian isle. Toxic caterpillars! Apparently plagues of horrible wriggly little caterpillars have been sweeping across the island, leaving the locals with itchy, red rashes when they come into contact with uncovered skin.

Tropical paradise, here we come!

(while eating breakfast)

RJ: We could write a book called, “How to Scare Yourself.”

Dad: Yeah? What would be in it?

RJ: Only one page… Only words and no pictures.

Dad: What would it say?

RJ: (making eerie wind-through-the-trees sounds) “Just blow and whistle.”

Dad: Great idea, but I don’t think many people would buy it.

RJ: It’s okay. I’ll just give them away… As birthday presents!

(while eating breakfast)

LR: I’m going to write a book one day. I’ve got a good idea for it too. It’ll be the biggest… book… ever… The size of a house!

Dad: That’s a great idea. I wonder if anyone’s ever made a book that big.

RJ: Mine will be that big too! I have a special name for it!

Dad: What’s that?

RJ: The Big, Big, Big, Big, Big, Big, Big, Big, Big, Big, Bad Book.

Dad: Cool… but why is it bad?

RJ: It’s so big, you can fall inside and get trapped in the story.

Dad: Did that actually happen to someone?

RJ: Yes. The postman is still stuck in there. It’s okay! There’s a toilet inside.

LR: (giggles)

Dad: Well that’s a relief.

RJ: It’s okay if you fall in, because he can give you your mail… You’ll love it! It’s an invitation to a birthday party!

Yesterday afternoon, while building a new raised planter box for an extension to the veggie patch, RJ and LR came out to help. Putting on my “Responsible Father” hat, I decided against letting them carve up the planks of wood with the  saw. Determined to help do something, they chose to attack the rose bushes with the hedge trimmers.

This wasn’t a problem — the roses are scheduled to be deleted sometime soon when Mum reformats the gardens. To give the kids some purpose, I suggested we try to make perfume or rosewater out of the rose blooms. “Great,” they said, and asked how to make it.

I managed to describe the processes while trying to sink the posts for the garden bed without destroying the incredibly convoluted system of pipes and tubes that make up our irrigation system. LR picked rosewater and immediately ran off and got to work. RJ decided to make perfume, and then asked where he could get alcohol.

(out in our fairly small back yard, neighbours just a few metres away in all directions)

RJ: Can you get me some alcohol?

Dad: I need to finish this bit of the project, RJ. I can’t help you right now.

RJ: (getting upset) But I need it now. I need to make perfume.

Dad: I understand. You really want to get started, but I can’t help yet. You have to wait.

(this repeats a few times as RJ gets more and more upset)

RJ: (angry and screaming) I NEED ALCOHOL. YOU NEED TO GIVE ME ALCOHOL NOW!

Dad: No! No alcohol for you until later!

RJ: (at the top of his lungs) I WONT WAIT! GIVE ME SOME ALCOHOL! I NEED ALCOHOL.

(this repeats a few more times and eventually he breaks down into tears)

RJ: (sobbing, yet still somehow very loud) Please daddy, please get me some alcohol. I only need a little bit.

I’m just waiting for a knock on the door from family services… They’ll probably be taking my “Responsible Father” hat with them.

(while reading stories before bed)

Dad: … that the most likely reason of all, may have been that his heart was two sizes too small…

RJ: That’s why he was so mean.

Dad: Yep. That’s definitely why the Grinch was so mean.

RJ: His heart wasn’t big enough to push all the blood around. He wasn’t getting enough blood in his brain.

Dad: That’ll put anyone in a bad mood.