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Racing Waves

As cold as a Bay Area beach can be, it’s still catnip for a four-year-old…or two.

The kids went crazy at Pompono Beach this past weekend, first enthralled by sand (just sand), before chasing sea foam tumbleweeds, daring waves to touch them, and ultimately stomping through icy ocean water.  Once or twice, when Daddy threatened to throw a kid out to sea, the sea just laughed.

Had to pull the plug after 45 minutes or so, to avoid amputation of Cory’s hands from frostbite.  Back in the car, Cory is exhausted, freezing, runny-nosed, and…wishing she could have stayed longer.

 

The Mortality Cuddle

Couple weeks ago, Daddy adds “cuddle for two minutes” to the end of the bedtime routine.  Those two minutes follow books and/or videos  and/or “lay down two minutes.”  Cuddle for two differs from lay down for two in that no one is supposed to talk. So, of course, that just leaves Cory and Fisher to set the agenda…

F: Daddy is 44, so he is going to be an angel before us, Cory.
C: Daddy, are you going to be an angel before us?
D silent.
F (hugging Daddy from one side): Yes, Daddy is 44, Cory.  So, he is going to be an angel first.
C: That means Daddy is going to die to be an angel.
D (unable to let it go): Yes, Daddy is going to be an angel someday, fingers crossed, and you know what Daddy is going to do then?
F/C: What?
D (tickling their backs at the same time): The same thing he’s doing now!
F/C laugh and move on.

Next night…cuddle two minutes…no talking…just cuddling…
C: Daddy, I am getting big, so it is getting harder for you to pick up me.
D silent.
F: I am getting bigger, too.
C: When I am 44, Daddy, you can’t pick me up, right?
F: Daddy, when I am 44, can you try to pick me up, please?
Daddy thinks “at 84, I will more likely be asking you to pick me up if I’m asking anything at all” but stays silent.
C: Fisher, Daddy can’t pick us up then. We are too big, then.
F (sounding distraught): Cory’s just being silly, right, Daddy?
D (finally): I’ll always try, if I can, Fisher.  I’ll at least try.

Next night…cuddle two minutes…no talking…just cuddling…
F: Cory, I love you more than you love me than affinity.
C: Fisher, I love you more than you love me to infinity, too.

Pause.

C: Fisher, are we going to miss each other when we are angels?
F: No. No, Cory.
C: Daddy, we are going to miss each other when we are angels, right?

D a little sad and silent.

C: Daddy, when we are angels, we are going to be dead, right?
F: What you say, Cory?
D: Everyone dies someday, Cory, but we don’t need to think about that right now, while we’re cuddling two minutes, do we?
C: But, that’s when you get to cancel and die, right?
F: Daddy, I don’t want to be an angel.
C: But, you have to get to cancel and die and become an angel, right, Daddy?
D: It’s called cancer, Cory.  Not everyone who gets cancers dies right away, so there’s that.
C: Oh.
D: And, fingers crossed, dying is a long day away for all of us, so there’s that, too.
F: I don’t want to be an angel. I want to stay here with you.

Daddy hugs both tight.

Hey, mortality, could you back off. This is rough. We’re just trying to cuddle for two minutes here.

To Affinity and Beyonce

F:  I love you more than, eh, uh, what’s the word that means bigger than the sky?
D:  Infinity.
F:  Daddy, I love you more than you love me than affinity.
D (smiling):  I think that means you love me a lot, Fisher.  I love you a tons and a millions, too.
F:  I love you to affinity and beyond, say…
C:  No, Fisher.
D:  Thank you, Fisher.  That is a lot of love.

C:  I love you more than you love me than infinity, too, Daddy.
D:  Thanks, Cory.  That really is a lot of love!
F:  I love you to affinity and beyond, say…
C:  Fisher, no.  It is infinity and beyond, not infinity and Beyonce.

Thickheaded Daddy takes a minute to realize that he didn’t get what Fisher had been saying.

F:  What you say, Cory?
C (emphasizing the “d”):  It is infinity and beyond.  Beyonce sounds like beyond, but she’s a single lady.
D (laughing):  Yah, Fisher, Buzz says “to infinity and beyond,” not “to affinity and Beyonce”…
F:  But, Daddy…
D:  Yes?
F:  You say that nothing is bigger than affinity.  So…er, uh…what “beyond” means then?
D: “Beyond” means “further than” or “on the other side of.”
F (confused):  But, why he say “to affinity and beyond” then?
D:  Well, Buzz is just using a figure of speech to emphasize how far he’s going to go.

F:  But, Daddy!  What is beyond affinity?
D:  Well, nothing, Fisher.  Nothing can be bigger than infinity.  Buzz is just exaggerating, being silly.

Long pause.

F (with attitude):  Whatever.

Electric Blue Sequins

Cory is all smiles before a “Bad Romance” with some heels brings the Saturday morning dance party to a tired close (a cycle that will no doubt play out once or twice more in her life, if more likely around 1 or 2 than around 8 or 9 a.m.).  Cory worked a shirt of shiny blue sequins in with her Cinderella get-up after finding it in Daddy’s drawer one day.

Cory’s blue jacket (with hot pink butterflies) had gone missing one day.  This loss caused serious alarm, as it’s the only jacket Cory will wear to school.  In searching for it in Papa’s and Daddy’s drawers, Cory spies a shock of electric blue sequins…

C (pointing):  Daddy, I see something. What is that?
D (moving to close the drawer):  Noth…
C:  Daddy, just a minute. I want to see that.
D:  Okay, Cory, but we are looking for your blue jacket.  I don’t see it in this drawer.
C:  Who this belongs to?
P (smirking):  That’s Daddy’s.
C:  Daddy’s?
P (still smirking):  Yah, Daddy used to dance in that.
C:  You danced in it, Daddy?
D (where is that blue jacket?):  Yes, Cory, once, a long time ago.
C:  Can I dance in it?
Pause.
D:  Sure, but Cory we are looking for your blue jacket, right?
Cory, eyes filled with electric blue sequins, doesn’t answer.

Not much later…blue jacket momentarily forgotten…Lady Gaga pumping…Cory cycles through moves resembling a bull fight (with a sequined cape), a rhythmic gymnastics routine (with a truncated electric blue ribbon), etc., before actually trying to put the shirt on.

C: Daddy, how I can wear it?
D: It’s too big for you to wear as a shirt, Cory.
C: But, how I can wear it?
D: Well, let’s try as a skirt…

All attempts to fasten it (tougher with short sleeves) fall short of Cory’s expectation that it shimmer and billow through her turns.  She opts to hold it with one hand and continues her moves.

Now those electric blue sequins, no longer tucked away in some old drawer, regularly see the light of a “dance floor” again, Saturday morning or otherwise…