Tuesday, June 17, 2014

BUM, RUMP, BACKSIDE, BOTTOM...IT'S ALL GOOD

Sorry it’s been a while since I last checked in…I’ve been busy.

J  I turned 5,

J  Traveled to the Magical Land of Disney,

J  Graduated preschool,

J  Became obsessed with my butt,

J  Learned to swim the backstroke,

J  Played a successful season of T-Ball.

All this packed into a few short months.

Most of the milestones are self-explanatory, but let me elaborate on my latest obsession, my bum, my rump, my backside, my bottom…whatever you call it, it’s all good.

I find it hilarious.  Everything about it…the noises it makes, the capabilities it has, the reaction it evokes from merely saying its name.  In a word, it’s amazing.

I am, however, the only one (in my immediate family at least) that finds it as functional and funny as I do.  What was once a source of slight amusement for my sister Riley, is now cause for cringing and tattling.

Case in point…

To spice up our nightly routine a bit, I thought I would use my latest obsession to stir up some funny.  In my most helpful voice, I sweetly called to Riley that I had finished brushing my teeth and the bathroom was hers for the using.

Unsuspectingly, she rounded the corner to a sight only the truly disturbed would appreciate, and my only regret (at this point) was the inability to simultaneously be an observer and a participant.

Entering the room to the sweet serenade of  an original song I like to call “Jingle Butt” (go ahead and sing along as you visualize the scene…it’s sung to the tune of “Jingle Bells”, yet all of the lyrics are replaced with the word “butt”.)

There I stood, singing my tune, bobbing up and down to the beat, completely naked, backside out, half bent over, with her toothbrush perched within the confines of my cheeks like a flag being raised at dawn.

Between the barely audible cries of horror, she was somehow able to mutter the words of indictment that immediately brought my parents in on the fun.

I am not sure of the exact amount of time it took them to process the scene, but after a brief pause for judgment, they quickly removed the bristles from their hiding place and carried me to my room as I tried to catch my breath from laughing so hard.

I don’t even remember the scolding I received, as my euphoric mind was still reeling from the monumental prank I had just pulled off.

Our nightly routine has since been modified, including (but not limited to) the supervised observation of both putting on my pj’s as well as all bathroom activities.

In addition to the new regulations, I also had to purchase a new toothbrush for my sister with my own hard-earned money.

One soft grip toothbrush = $3.

One more reason having a younger brother is the most aggravating, exciting, irreplaceable experience any child could ask for = Priceless.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Boys Can't Fly

Some concepts seem…implied…superfluous…logical…

And it’s in that moment that you think it not necessary to clarify concepts, that I will test the very laws of nature to TRY to prove you wrong.

So to answer the question, “Can boys fly?” would seem…implied…superfluous…logical.

But I’m four, I’m curious, I test limits, I defy the laws of gravity, I AM  BRENNAN!

Here’s how that plan went down:

Meijer bags looped on arms (to serve as wings)…CHECK.

Climb to highest perch in the house (back of the couch)…CHECK.

Eyeball target (ottoman located approximately 12 feet from couch & just beyond wood coffee table)…CHECK

Flap feverishly (to start take-off)…CHECK.

Deep-knee squat (for ample altitude)…CHECK.

LAUNCH…CHECK!!!

Imagine my surprise, when instead of the graceful touchdown upon the ottoman that I envisioned, I came crashing down in a blaze of glory face-first onto the edge of the coffee table.

No tears.  No yelling.  Just the pissed-off declaration of “I DIDN’T MAKE IT!” left my lips.

Newton's law of universal gravitation states that any two bodies in the universe attract each other with a force that is directly proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them.

For those of you who aren’t a learned scholar like myself, let me sum up Sir Isaac Newton in my own words…

Brennan’s law of gravity states that when a body (like a boy) is obsessed with the idea of flying over another body (like a table) it matters very little what the product of their masses is because the stubborn four year old boy will 100% of the time try to clear that table via the airways and the result will 100% of the time be an injury, regardless of the distance between them.

And through the swollen lid of my bruised eye, I saw the thought-bubble floating from my Mother’s face that had only three letters hovering in its space, “W. T. F.?!?!”

But regardless of her bewilderment, my Mom still rushed to my aid, scooped me up and started the concerned inspection of injuries, softly uttering just three words…

Boys. Can’t. Fly.