Begin Geek Out

Waaaaay back on May 7, comics theoretician Scott McCloud posted a blog entitled ‘I Love My Wife’ that detailed how excited his wife was to see Iron Man 2, and how pleased he was that she was so excited.

I’m sure their relationship runs deeper than Robert Downey-helmed super-hero flicks, and my wife and I would have seen the flick too if we could afford the cash and time away from the kiddos. As it is, work takes up all the time from the kiddos that I can stand.

End of Geek Out

My wife and I talked a lot yesterday. Between playing with the kids, the day job, and my hopeless addiction to the internet, this doesn’t occur all that often.

I have to admit I missed her.

We talked about what was missing in Tim Burton’s Alice In Wonderland (a post of it’s own), we talked about Einstein’s missing brain, and what was the true source of his genius. We talked about future plans and dreams and what kind of puppy we’ll get the kids. (Hopefully we’ll decide quicker than the Obamas did.)

Bottom line: we just… talked.

Last night, we even spent time surfing the web together. Mainly looking up dog breeds, but also looking at art. Our favorite site of the night was ‘The Art of the Brick’, which is a showcase for the art of Nathan Sawaya, a professional Lego artist.

Moments of sanity like these are becoming fewer these days, what with the crazy kids and all. But moments like these will be treasured, she has my word.

The darkness was thick as chowder. The audience sat in nervous anticipation. Not a child stirred, nor adult clear their throat. No event save the royal croquet match was as anticipated as the Mad Hatter’s Carnivale and Cavalcade. A drum roll began like the faintest, distant roll of thunder. A crescendo and a cymbal crash. A spotlight sliced the darkness like one of the Red Queen’s executioners taking off a head. In the beam of light stood the Mad Hatter. His green pants and jacket shimmered with rainbows in the spotlight. His large bowtie did not flop as it usually did, but stood proudly horizontal. His head was bowed as much as it could be with such a bowtie, and the spotlight glared off of the tag: ‘This style 10/6″. The wide brim of the hat obscured the little man’s face, but his large front teeth protruded like white monoliths. When he spoke, the nasal voice echoed from the wall of the big top though there was no evidence of a microphone or anything else.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, March Hares and Doormice, It is without any further ado that I present … the Greatest Show In Wonderland!”

The big top lit up as if it were daylight to reveal an extraordinary array of colorful characters. Mice danced on large colorful balls, angels danced on pins, a magnificent elephant carried a Persian Prince who waved to the crowd that exploded with cheers of gratitude and excitement. The Red Queen applauded despite herself. A Cheshire Cat juggled his head. The Doormouse was wide awake.

The Mock Turtle sang, “Now I will, Now I can, Join the dance!” The only tear on his face was one of sheer joy.

The griffin spread his wings that glistened in the theatrical lights like stars in a sky with no moon.

Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum shook hands and danced and fell over each other, laughing all the while.

The White Rabbit, of course, had to hurry to catch up.

Just as the procession really got going, the music ceased and the lights went out. The audience, dazed and with ears ringing, fumbled for their seats as the Mad Hatter’s voice was heard.

“Twinkle, Twinkle, little crowd

Your applauding was much too loud.

Up above the show you sit

Don’t make a peep, not one bit.”

The crowd did not move. Silence took over once more. The blinding light illuminated the Hatter once more.

“Thank you.” The Hatter said, removing his hat to reveal long rabbit ears and a rabbit face. The crowd gasped. Beady black rabbit eyes turned, examining the crowd. “As you can see, I’ve been through some… changes.” Everyone remained still and quiet. “My attempts to bring Alice back to Wonderland have gone unsuccessful. But the March Hare and I …

Well, we put aside our tea and bisquits and spent quite a long time searching. We became so engrossed in the work that we began to think as one.” He quickly turned to the left, and seemed to take on another voice. A familiar voice. The voice of the March Hare. “So we literally became one!”

The crowd gasped. It was grotesque. It was horrifying. It was exactly something those two mad creatures could and would do.

The Hatter’s head snapped to the right. “Do not be alarmed. We really just wanted Alice’s attention.”

Left. “Are you getting this, Alice?”

Alice awoke in a cold sweat. She clutched the bedclothes to her chest. She looked over at her husband, who seemed to bear the slightest resemblance to a Mad Hatter she had once met as a child. She shook her head and looked again. There was her handsome husband. She slipped out of bed without disturbing him and looked in at her kids. They slumbered peacefully. There were no white rabits or doormice or any Wonderland creatures hiding in her home.

Alice went back to bed. She put her arm around her dear husband and drifted back to sleep, swearing that she or her family would never ever know the horrors of Wonderland again.

She hoped that they wouldn’t.

But her dreams were always there, pulling her back. The March Hatter had been wrong.

Alice would never be able to leave Wonderland…

Calli can help you conquer the world!

Yesterday I was stressed at work. The day before that, I was stressed at work. Last week: yeah, more stress. I don’t want to get up in the morning. I don’t blog but once a week (FatherHood Friday, as seen at dad-blogs.com! Be sure to check out all the cool moms and dads who selflessly share the lives of their families for your entertainment and delight!) I can hardly take making a decision anymore, because somehow it’ll be wrong to someone.

So. After a stressful day at work, I walked through the pouring rain to my car. Generally, when it’s raining and I feel blue, I imagine myself as David Banner, put my hands in my pockets and whistle the ‘Incredible Hulk’ theme, but this time it wasn’t enough to make me feel better. I had to stay later than I wanted, causing us to miss the performance of Alice in Wonderland I really wanted to take Calli to. I popped the trunk and realized I’d left the laptop back in the office. Perfect. Only I didn’t think ‘perfect’. I try to keep my blog family-friendly, so I’ll leave out what I really thought.

I drove home, rain crashing on the windshield. I did NOT turn on the radio. I just sulked.

So I come home to the family. Calli is inconsolable. She REALLY wants to go outside. But she doesn’t want to wear her raincoat or boots. We plead with her and essentially wrestle her to the ground to get her to don her rain acoutrements. I try real hard to tuck in the raw nerve she keeps stepping on. It’s not her fault I had a bad day, week, and month. She’s just being her precocius two-year old self. And judging from stories I’ve heard, she’s not even all that bad!

Raingear on, Calli, Kat, and their Mom go outside. I pace the apartment, not wanting to be rude to my family, but feeling like I need a moment alone. The half hour in the silent car wasn’t enough. Aw, heck, I’ll go see what they’re up to!

I stepped outside my building in my Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robot pajama pants and Legion of Super Heroes t-shirt (a sign I truly don’t care. I normally don’t set foot outside in something like that! I usually match the pants to the t-shirt, come on!) and turn left, so absorbed in my sulking that I don’t notice the family off to the right.

“Justin!” I hear my wife call. I turn to see her jogging back to our apartment. “I gotta get the camera! Wanna go watch the kids playing in the mud?”

I looked over, and there they were: the two ‘sissies’ (sisters, not cowards) were splashing and playing in the mud.

Calli looked up with her big baby blues and said, “Try it, Daddy!”

“I don’t know, maybe later.”

“Peeeeaze? I wanta you to try it!”

“OK.”

Good times...

I kicked off my sandals and let the mud ooze between my toes. I watched Calli and Kat stomp around in the mud. We laughed and splashed and played. I began to think of when I was a kid, and rain was almost magical! Rain was when you went outside and splashed and played and delighted in your merry mess making. Rain’s not a literary symbol for sadness and depression. Rain is liberating and cleansing. I had forgotten that.

Kids will do that to you. Sometimes you have to shake off the cranial-anal disorder to see it.

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When I post Kat’s art, I get comments that say ‘Keep them coming!’ So, I’m happy to oblige!

Today we present some Kat-style fantasy!