Sunday, May 20, 2007
I write for a living. No, I don't travel the world developing interesting characters based on my encounters with diverse cultures and grand personalities, then author epic stories that engage and generally enrich the lives of both young and old, alike.
In fact, I haven't left the continental US in over 8 years and haven't ever had a need for a passport. The furthest I’ve traveled was to a small, town in the western part of Puerto Rico to visit family where my days were spent rocking on a chair hoping that rain should plummet from the sky down to the scorching pavement just to see smoke rise from the ground. What an adventure!
All sarcasm aside, my days are spent coming up with content for business executives who are seeking career-enhancing opportunities. Basically, I write and edit resumes. So, correct grammar is very important for me.
But somehow, I can’t seem to help myself when I look at Gideon’s feet. To me they are so cute that I must say “feets.” Like when I dress Gideon up and he is sitting, I say something like “Hey buddy, are those your feets? Your feets? Look at those feets!” as he smiles away learning bad grammar from his daddy, much to Alexa’s dismay whose entire life is based on correct usage of the English language as a lifelong reading enthusiast.
Her concern is that Gideon will grow up thinking that “feets” is the plural of foot. Like when he is delivering a presentation to a group of physicians on some new scientific finding he’ll say something like “as you can determine from my collaborative effort with Dr. So Andso, it becomes evident that the cognitive, behavioral, spatial and motor assessments all derive from the deteriorating condition of the “feets.” Of course, what I wrote just doesn’t make sense, because I am not a doctor nor do I play one on TV.
Or perhaps Gideon is a star right fielder for the Mets who just threw out someone at home plate saving the game for the Mets. A reporter after the game asks him how he made the play. Gideon responds, “You know, they’re a tough team and they never give up. Playing a team like that means that you’ve got to give it your all. In that play I just ran to the ball as fast as I could, then used my ‘feets’ for leverage to throw out the player at home plate.”
Ok, so all sarcasm was not left aside. I digress.
Here are more pics of Gideon and his "feets."
Friday, May 11, 2007
So, yesterday I get home from work to find Alex sitting on the couch, freshly showered, and watching his new favorite show, Spongebob Squarepants. Notice I said Alex, and not Gideon. Gideon was at my mother-in-law's, and his cartoon of late is the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. I have become used to my husband's regularly watched channels: History Channel, CNN, Travel Channel, but I did not realize that Nickelodeon had become one of them. I mean, I know I have come home and realize that he is singing the Wonder Pets theme song, or amusing Gideon with his own dorky version of "Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum...delicioso!" from Dora the Explorer. But that is all usually for Gideon's enjoyment, or because he has that Diego's rescue pack song stuck in his head AGAIN. (which, by the way, is very catchy, with a salsa beat)
His reasoning for comparing me to the squid cartoon character? Because Squidward does not understand Spongebob's silly humor, as I apparently do not understand Alex's need for silly humor. Now, you might think that perhaps my husband would feel slightly ashamed for his love of a sponge with no pants. But he is shameless. He thinks it is hysterical.