Baby’s First Joke

Soren made a joke tonight.

When we were at Target the other day, he got all gaga in the snack aisle while I was picking out some kind of ridiculous organic tortilla chips. He really wanted pretzels. Pretzels are the best. The problem is that the pretzels you get at the store don’t necessarily comply with our no-GMO philosophy, so I don’t buy them.

So then I’m thinking about pretzels long after Soren has probably forgotten about them and I mention to Ben that we should make pretzels this weekend, maybe for dinner because we (well, Ben and I — Soren snacks all the time) don’t eat giant snacks like homemade pretzels. So the plan was to have pretzels and salad for dinner tonight. And of course “we” making pretzels became Ben making pretzels, because I’m a lazy ass and I have this dumb cold that honestly isn’t that bad but has me off my game just enough to be annoying (like, I’ve been spending a lot of time fantasizing about sitting on the couch under a blanket, with beer or tea, watching tv or reading a book while nobody bothers me).

So tonight we had pretzels and salad for dinner and it was awesome. (The recipe for the pretzels is here, but Ben cut back on the baking soda to avoid any chance of bitterness — but I can’t tell you how much he used because he’s too cool to measure anything — and he made the dough in the bread machine instead of using a stand mixer. The recipe for the cheese sauce is here.) The pretzels are divine. You should make them.

The point of this story, at which we will arrive shortly, is the joke Soren made. Ben, is too cool to measure anything, didn’t measure anything while making my cheese sauce and it turned out too watery because he added way too much milk. So the pretzels were ready and he was puttering around adding cornstarch and doing what you do to fix too-watery cheese sauce. Soren was sitting at the dining room table (which is just outside the kitchen) with his pretzel (along with some peas, and a couple cucumber slices and pieces of carrot because he doesn’t like salad yet). Ben told him not to eat his pretzel yet because there would be cheese sauce soon.

A few minutes went by. Soren said, “I ate all my pretzel!” Then he paused for a second. Then he said, “Just kidding!!” and busted out laughing. He’s never made a joke before. It was hilarious — seriously — because it was funny and because he paused just long enough for it to be funny (because just for a second, you’re all OMG he ate that whole pretzel already) and because it was the first joke he’s ever made.

Since then, he’s been a total ham all night. He’s going to have to learn that not everything he says is hilarious. Later, though. Right now, everything he says kind of is hilarious.

High Fives and Stir Fry

Soren interprets “don’t walk” signs as high fives, so this morning on our way to school, I had to high-five him every time we saw one. We drive right through downtown Denver, where we still have the ridiculous all-way walk situation, which I thought they were doing away with, so we stop a lot and see a lot of don’t walk signs and, as a result, high five a lot.

Do you know about the all-way walk situation? When you’re at an intersection, there’s a time when cars going in both directions (usually this is the intersection of two one-way streets) have red lights and pedestrians can walk in any direction. This is nice when you’re a pedestrian and you can do a diagonal street cross, but is annoying for cars. Unless you’re really into high fives, which I totally am.
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stir fry

We had an awesome, super-easy stir fry for dinner tonight. Ben made it. This is remarkable because, although Ben is an excellent cook, one time he put beer in stir fry, which is even worse than it sounds, so he’s kind of been banned from making it for years.

Tonight, though, he kept it simple: Gardein Mandarin Orange Chick’n (you could use tofu instead), baby bok choy, broccoli, green onions, oil, pepper, garlic powder, and tamari (always better than soy sauce, in my opinion). Garnish with Sriracha, serve over rice. I ate what you see in the photo and then had more. It was freaking awesome.

Hello, Chicken!

Quick update on being sick: Remember how I told you I was sick on Tuesday? I woke up on Wednesday and wasn’t sick. The most likely scenario is that I wasn’t really sick. On the off-chance I was really sick and my anti-sickness measures actually worked, here they are so you can do the same thing should you find yourself getting sick (start doing these things, like, the minute you first feel a sore throat coming on):

  • Eat zinc lozenges (only 3 or so a day, after meals, or you might get a stomach ache).
  • Take lots of vitamin C (I take 500 mg vitamin C tablets, maybe one with each meal).
  • Do a saline sinus rinse (using the squeezy Neilmed thing or a neti pot) once or twice a day.
  • Maybe skip your regular workout and get a little extra rest if possible.

In other news, Soren made a phone out of Legos and brings it everywhere with him — he puts it in his pocket and brings it to restaurants, takes it to bed — I’m sure a harbinger of iPhones to come. Basically it’s a flat Lego piece with a bunch of tiny Lego pieces stuck to it. They used to be arranged in a random pattern, but today he took it apart, made little towers with the little Legos, and then reassembled the phone as follows.

Lego phone v.2.0

He calls people on it, too. Grandparents, friends, etc. His new thing, though, is using his Lego phone to call chickens. I’m not sure how he decided he should call chickens. I haven’t talked about them for a while (we’re still in the chicken-acquisition negotiation phase and, I think, on track for getting them in the spring; I’m planning to take a chicken care class in the next few months). But there he was, on the phone, all “Hi chicken!” I asked if they were going to bring us some eggs, and he said yes. Now his conversations are all “Hi chicken! Are you going to bring us some eggs? Thank you!” The phone also has a camera, which is operated by pointing it at someone, saying “Cheese!” and making a “chhhhhh” sound. I can’t vouch for the photo quality, but I’m sure an Instagram app for the Lego phone is coming soon.

Pretty cool, right? Let’s make this into a functional phone we’ll sell on Etsy for $300 before Urban Outfitters takes the idea and sells Lego phones for $50.

Dudes & Legos

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Dudes are totally ridiculous about Legos. Today Soren was all mommy help me and I was all okay, so I made a perfectly serviceable little car. It had wheels, a steering wheel, a windshield, a roof — you know, all the things a pretend car needs — and even space for the little Lego guy with his little hat and the teeny tiny screwdriver and wrench he’s always carrying around. Well no, Soren took my car and dismantled it. So next I decided to make a delightful little yellow garden shed. It had a door and walls were being installed when Soren took it and . . . attached a bunch of random-ass Legos to it and declared it a dinosaur (I suppose the door is where it poops?) and said RAAAAAAAWWR it was going to bite me. Meanwhile, Ben sits here at the same table making a car and Soren doesn’t bother him or take his car apart. It’s like as a female I get no respect in the Lego department.

Talking

Is it normal for 3-year-olds to talk constantly all the time forever and ever and always and, if so, why? Talking is great and everything, but unless he’s asleep, Soren can’t go 5 minutes without talking. He talks to me. He talks to Ben. He talks to the animals. He talks to himself. He talks to people who aren’t here, like his friend C and his grandparents. He talks to cartoon characters, like Madame Gazelle from Peppa Pig. When we’re out and about, he talks to random people we encounter. This usually involves an object he has; at the grocery store, for example, he will excitedly exclaim “I have an orange and an apple!” to innocent bystanders.

I suspect that people have more than one kid just so their first kid will have someone else to talk to instead of talking to them all the time. Dude is going to have some mad language skills when he’s older, right?

 

Soren the Songwriter

This is whenan umbrella drink!

Today after soccer and after grocery shopping, when we were driving home from the dog party, Soren sang his ABCs several times. Then he was all, “Let’s do something different!” So he made up a new song, called Buses Drivers. It went like this:

Buses drivers
Buses drivers
Buses drivers
Buses drivers
Buses drivers
Buses drivers
Buses drivers
Buses drivers
Buses drivers

His next song was called Trains and it went like this:

Trains
Trains
Trains
Trains
Trains
Trains
Trains
Traina traina trains

Then there was Cars, which went:

Cars
Cars
Cars
Cars
Cars
Cars
Cars
Keys keys keys keys

After that came Dogs:

Dogs
Dogs
Dogs
Dogs
Dog party
Dogs at home
Dogs
Dogs

And we ended with a rousing rendition of Gas Stations:

Gas stations
Gas stations
Gas stations
Gas stations
Gas stations
Gas stations
Gas stations
Gas stations
Gas stations!

Rock over London! Rock on Chicago! Wesley Willis would be proud.

Monday Morning Sorenisms

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Soren is the “zookeeper” of his classroom this week, which means he’s featured on a little display by the doorway. The display includes photos and answers to a few questions, such as, “What’s your favorite color?” Soren has many favorite colors, including but not limited to pink, orange, and green (orange seemed to edge out the others). Another question was, “What’s your favorite movie?” Soren doesn’t have a favorite movie. He hasn’t even seen a movie. Is this weird? I’ve never seen the point of having a 2-year-old watch a movie, plus I don’t think he’d sit still for that long.

When asked what he wanted to be when he grows up, Soren said, “I don’t know.” Then he said, “A baby.” I decided to exert undue influence with regard to answering this question and said, “Hey, do you want to be a DJ when you grow up?” He said, “Yeah!”

The last question was: What makes you special? Here’s how that went:

Me: Soren, what makes you special?

Soren: I’m not special. I’m beige.

Awww, kid. You can be beige and special.