a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. new game

nothing like kicking it at the mall in your pajamas (and no underwear), a pair of neon crocs and sportin' the 3D glasses you just got at the afternoon matinee. by any standard this is called the good life. ...

we received this message from a neighbor mom while anthony was down playing at her house.

a neighbor boy came over to play with anthony. he's a little older but the two boys visit one another often and without invitation. they will at times play for hours and hours without supervision or issue. during the boy's visit this last weekend, he and anthony were butting heads about something. in response, anthony took the initiative to call the boy's home where his mother answered.

MOTHER
hello

ANTHONY
ben is being mean.

MOTHER
oh. anthony. hi. uhm. well i'm sorry.

ANTHONY
(silence)

MOTHER
i guess you should maybe send him home.

ANTHONY
ok.

without as much as a goodbye, thanks or grunt of acknowledgement, anthony hung up the phone and yelled out, "ben. you have to go home."

that is the sort of self-sufficiency marty and i can surely get behind.

bella after finding the golden egg at the walter-extended-family easter gala. this is a coveted honor that more than twenty cousins vied for. this is bella's first time capturing the prize and she is busting, visibly, at the win.

and yes i know she looks like and is now a young lady.

(photo credit goes to cousin missy) ...

if you see me this week and think you notice a cut over my right eye, your keen vision should be complimented. i do have a cut over my right eye. if you're wondering how a grown, boring man might get a gash over his right eye there is a perfectly obvious explanation: i played a game of uno with my family. what? your family uno games don't involve bloodshed and maiming. perhaps you use different rules. here are some of ours for reference:

if you drop a card on the floor (we play on a coffee table), you get scrumbled which is a dearmitt-word for tickled.

if you drop a card on the floor more than once each scrumbling must last longer and be more intense than the prior scrubmle.

if a card gets dropped several times, like, by a six year old who keeps dropping them on purpose, the severity of the tickles might get so intense that the recipient may flee screaming from the table, the room, and even the floor of the house, resulting in a wild and boisterous chase which shakily reverberates on the ceiling until the inevitable cornering happens. the end game is marked by a large tackle and crash and shrill screams as the tickling begins.

there is another rule that allows someone to yell "table jump" and then do just that, jump over or run around the table and tackle someone beginning a tickle war. i'm not sure what instigates a call of "table jump" as they seemed to occur at unpredictable times, but the fear of suddenly being attacked by one or more people surely helps keep your attention on things (and thankfully not many calls of "your turn" which can plague a table possessing diverse ages and interest-levels).

the table jump is how i got the cut above my eye. problem was when bella table-jumped me, after i played a draw 4 i should reveal, she had a pistachio shell in her hand and in her wild dive towards me her family-grade shank grazed my eye causing the injury. it seems bella doesn't agree that family versions of the game should be weapon-free affairs. and the fact that she went on to win the raucous event didn't allow for any possible learning moments about how people who cheat and maim others never win because it's just not the case when it comes to full-contact uno.

anthony dashed through the kitchen wearing only his new under armor ski tights. he shook his bottom around a few times before running out. the next time he passed through he was completely naked. he ascended the stairs and once at the top screamed "i'm sexy, i'm so sexy" to which you heard a horrified bella scream "Noooooooo!" as if someone were about to dash a kitten against a rock.

it's hard to imagine days ever being nearly as interesting as when you have small humans making their unscripted contributions to your world.

yesterday i mentioned a ritual i do with the boys to end the day. there is another ritual i've been doing with bella first thing in the morning. after she gets on the bus, and drops into her seat, always the same one, i pantomime something as the bus drives off. my four second skits have included things like pretending to pick up poop (when we're dog-sitting and i'm about to walk the pup), or downhill skiing (when we have a pending ski trip), or struggling to pull up tight pants (when she had to pull half-dry pants out of the dryer), or doing an animated singing solo (when she has a choir performance in the day). the reward for me is to see her brightly look out the window before the bus starts moving for her day's mini-show. then seeing her throw her head back in a hearty guffaw at the daily choice as she slides out of view is more meaningful to a father from his daughter than would be a standing-o from a packed carnegie hall.

and please note, that while she would never admit it, she too is tickled by a good poop joke. the difference between she and her brothers is she has a one a day limit, or week even, where the boys would gladly take one a minute for a week.

the boys and i started a new bedtime game, especially after we've read shel silverstein. what i do is as we're approaching bed, i take a random sentence they say and then try to make a shel-esque poem out of it. as you'll see from last night's sample, the more bodily fluid and organ references that can be made, the better. the one below had them in hysterics (not the smartest pre-bed move) so much so they demanded a re-telling before they would go to sleep.

on a saturday night a few weeks back, we had a beautiful snow fall through the night.

on sunday, i built an igloo with anthony (one big enough for him to climb into) and then went sledding with alex (where we'd race down the hills and crash into each other if able).

on monday, i consumed an inordinate amount of ibuprofen.

i really wish they'd work on a drip mechanism i could clip into at work so i wouldn't have to groan each time i got up to get more pills.

one morning before school i listened to my boys, aged six and nine, engage in two philosophical debates. a few times they asked me for help but never at the points when they, by my estimation, most needed it. they only turned to me on matters where the answer seemed obvious or irrelevant.

the first topic dealt with what tables you're allowed to stand on and how it's weird that coffee tables are always ok but dining room tables are never ok and isn't that weird because the dining room table is bigger and seems like it would be safer and one would think stronger so why is it dad that we can never stand on dining room tables. the question caught me unprepared and eavesdropping on their wonderful logic as i made the bed where marty and i sleep. my pause and subsequent stammer brought them both to eye me with anticipation, wanting this feedback so their deep vivisection could continue. my answer was no more impressive than saying i guess i didn't really know why and it's just that some folks don't like it when you stand on tables where they eat, especially when they're eating on them, and especially when one of them is your mother. after this clarification, which satisfied them well enough, their vigor slowed for the subject.

then, less than ten minutes later in the foyer putting on shoes, they somehow wended into a conversation about what would happen if the earth died. first the two boys discussed how it might happen; meteor, explosion, sun dying, people fighting. anthony corrected alex saying it would be ok if the sun stopped working because then it would just be night all the time which would be kinda cool because then they could be up and awake in the nighttime. alex explained, with a respectful somberness that it wouldn't be that simple and if the sun stopped working everything, including people, would freeze and nothing would grow to which anthony gave a contemplative "oh". seeing his ruminative expression alex ended the discussion on an up-note by saying, if that happened we'd just have to hope god can put two more people on the planet to get it all started again. anthony agreed to this logic with a serious tenor adding it would be very sad if he couldn't do that for the earth.

puzzles come with a difficulty rating. puzzles made in our home go through an additional bit of math called the anthony factor. with this, you multiply any difficulty rating by seven, then you have the adjusted anthony scale. as for what sorts of things necessitate this tweak, here are a few of things you might expect to happen between your puzzle-building sessions:

1. having large groups of the facing-up pieces flipped face-down.
2. having your neatly parted edge pieces mixed back in with the middle pieces.
3. having pieces moved from the puzzle table to other tables or the floor.
4. having pieces put together that have no business being together.
5. and lastly, and surely the most effective of his tactics, he takes apart already completed swaths of the puzzle.

but, on the good side:

1. you get a lot more puzzle for your dollar given the time spent assembling it
2. and you have a true and immense sense of achievement when you are able to outpace anthony's counter-measures and finally complete a puzzle.

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. battle

a boy spent the night at our house. it was his first time in our home. he did the usual room to room discovery most kids seem to do on an initial visit of a new space. as he passed through the kitchen where marty washed the morning dishes, he stopped in front of the refrigerator and in a wondrous and astonished tone said, "woooowwww. look how big this refrigerator is." and then asking no one in particular added, "have you ever seen a refrigerator this big?"

in all my years i've never had a guest in my home marvel at the grandeur of my perfectly normal sized refrigerator. truth is, aside from a dorm style cube fridge, i didn't even know they came in another size. since that moment i've not looked at my fridge, or its contents, the same again. in fact i've not looked at many of my possessions the same again. a fruitful and balancing issue to have in this thanksgiving time of year.

in choir bella (11) bent down to pick something up and hit her head on the back of the chair. she exclaimed an unchecked and uncharacteristic "shit!". when she stood up one of her friends had turned to her, held her arm forward offering her hand to bella and said, "bella. welcome to the dark side. we've been expecting you." then another friend standing behind them started breathing like darth vader. it seems bella was the last to utter a swear in front of the group, a group of playful and sweet girls, as evidenced by this wonderfully precious moment.

i later caught bella muttering the same swear around the house and told her she needs to mutter that more quietly because i didn't want my kindergarten boy taking it to school. after catching bella in the phrase a few more times, i asked a favor of her. i asked that whenever she says felt required to say shit, she extends the phrase to shitake as in shitake mushrooms. early on there was a prominent pause in the syllables as you'd hear "shit" then a few beats later a "... take mushrooms" tacked on the backside. but now, already, it pretty much just comes out as "ahh, shitake mushrooms".

while we're talking inside language, the phrase bella and i use to reference "girl things" is fuzzy pickles. this might go something like:

TROY
bella what took you so long? i thought you were ready to go.

BELLA
i was but had to deal with some fuzzy pickles.

TROY
oh. right. you good now?

BELLA
yep.

TROY
cool.

i like being part of a larger family far more than i ever thought i'd like being part of a larger family.

anthony is a ravenous consumer of travel logic games. he could play them for hours, methodically working his way through a full deck of problems. and when he's done, you very well might see him simply right the deck and plow through again.

(photo by cousin missy) ...

when anthony plays chess and wants to resign he lays his king over and says not "uncle" as alex and bella instructed him, but rather "old man".

it is said with numbing frequency that when you have kids you get to (1) relive your childhood and (2) experience a childhood you didn't get to have.

there is a very valid reason that sentiment is said with such frequency. to this day i don't know who loved those wooden thomas tracks (or many of the gifts and trips) more, me or my kids. ...

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. i can read

just your classic photo of a mother-son nail painting session on the front stoop. ...

i've been routinely astonished at how my children, and wife, can transform our seemingly boring and boxy home into cavernous forts and sprawling cave networks. some of the more lavish constructions have used just about every blanket, comforter and pillow our home possesses. at the conclusion of these elaborate constructions a deep and serious reading fest often takes place. great stuff that i'm su ...

the day began with a game of "see if i can bite your finger". marty and her siblings played this when young. in it, one player has their mouth open wide and eyes closed tight. the other player then sticks their finger into the open mouth and tries to get it out before the closed eye person bites it. towards the end of their saturday cuddle marty and anthony started playing this. a surprising amount of laughter ensued. after a bit of play anthony peered into marty's gaping mouth and began charting what he saw. "i can see your teeth mom. oh, i can see your tongue mom. oh, i can see your vulva mom."

childbirth, she do take a toll.

and, i got cash money that says anthony's speech therapist has never been told to work on the enunciation nuances between uvula and vulva before.

ANFER
I'm the king of the world!

ALEX
no. you're the king of your anus.

i coached bella's softball team this year. i've helped coach many of the kids' teams but have never been the head coach. and yes, being the main guy is different, different in all of those stereotypical ways. in the end it was a fabulous experience, largely due to the group of girls who signed up. i know this is the universe being kind to me.

i believe i was a rather unorthodox coach. at the first practice we sat in a circle and played a name game i've used in teaching for more than twenty years (i'm horribly name challenged). i then explained to the girls that what was important to me was not how many games we won or lost but how much improvement each girl saw, individually, in themselves. so yes, i wanted them to be competitive but not with the other teams, with themselves. and that i didn't want our esteem to come from how we did against the other teams that signed up but instead from how much effort and focus we applied as individuals and as a group.

this was tested partway into the season after we won our first game and the girls were jumping up and down chanting, "we won! we won! we won!". after shaking hands with the other team, i called the girls over to the side away from everyone, had them sit down and told them, "ladies. we signed up to play a game called softball, not a game called win. every week we've come out here, win or lose, we've gotten to play softball. because we get to do every week what we signed up to do, you should show the excitement you showed today after every game, win or lose." during my talk the girls stared at me blankly. after my talk they all resumed their celebration, albeit more quietly when i was in earshot.

we had our final game of the season last weekend. the girls spirit was light and playful. after the game (a game we lost in the bottom of the final inning) they came and said they made up a cheer and asked if they could sing it. i said of course. so they huddled up and in unison cheered:

U-City Unicorns number one.
We just wanna have some fun.
We don't care if we-e win,
We just want to wear a grin.

as i stood and took this in, one word played through my head, "wow".

then we went for year-end ice cream.

kids surely do revive what is special about summertime. without their energy and excitement to be out of school, as adults we tend to lose that youthful shine during those three special months (given we're still locked up under the fluorescents).

and please note alex's super awesome red pinstriped, seersucker shorts ... worn backwards. such style can't be taught. ...