Call It What You Want...

My brother the thief -- er, dunce -- has brought to light a serious family issue. This issue seems to only have been avoided by the dunce spouse and the hard-working web drudge. We have yet to see if the adorable Mr. Mark will suffer from this problem, but it seems inevitable (I'm so sorry) that young master Jonathan, lover of cold pools and running from place to place, will have to spend his life with it as well.

On our first trip to London, we made a trip to Warwick Castle, where, among other exciting things, we were able to try on some fantastic headgear. As you see to the right, while *I* seem to have been able to fit into such protective items, a certain dunce may have had more trouble...

Don't get to thinking that my head is that much more dainty and seemly than his; it was a lucky moment. But no, the helmet pictured atop the dunce's head was NOT child-sized. Just normal-person-sized.

Please note that even he was not prevented from enjoying the fun of the hats. However, though he may have succeeded in getting the hat to the left on his head, he was quite uncomfortable and -- if he would today admit it -- claustrophobic in the confines of the lovely olde-tyme wear.

And no, indeed, the hair wasn't entirely to blame.

The baby book has a long list of "firsts": first tooth, first word, first time the baby slept through the night, first solid food, first steps...

They left out a significant list of firsts, however.

• First projectile vomit
• First explosive diaper
• First diaper rash
• First time baby unplugs a cord from an outlet using only his mouth
• First swear word
• First fight with a friend
• First "time out"

And the good ones, too:

• First library book
• First joke told ("Baby didn't see the light")
• First trip overseas
• First computer program written
• First poem

You get the idea.

Mark has one from the first category for his list, though: First Foreign Substance (Not Food) Consumed. Yesterday he found something on the floor at Kindermusik (presumably from someone's shoes, since it's always very clean there) and, naturally it went into his mouth. I tried to stop him from eating it -- even got my finger into his mouth and touched something fairly solid -- but in vain, and he ate whatever it was. He is not sick, did not choke, didn't do anything else from the top list as a result, so I guess we're all right for now.

Just where do I write it in his baby book?

Just thought I would mention a new MOVIE being put out by none other than the illustrious Steve Taylor, The Second Chance, and starring Michael W. Smith (who knew?). And since he has a project in the works (that is religious in nature but doesn't involve blood or guts, which appeals a bit more to me, even if it does star MWS), he had an interview at Christianitytoday.com.

http://www.christianitytoday.com/music/interviews/2005/stevetaylor-0305.html

What a relief to find he's still doing something, though I miss the sarcastic and clever lyrics. And anyone who can find a rhyme for "epidermis" is okay by me.

It's hard to believe it's been 10 years since the Squinternational Tour came to Holland and we were there. (Holland, Michigan, of course) I remember back when "10 years ago" was the same as "back when I was little." Now it was the year I graduated college.

Fans of Steve Taylor are sort of hard to find. So imagine our suprise when Tim responded to a web posting that commented "the cash cow is gonna get you" and found it WAS truly a ST fan, not just a shrewd commentator. I recall my small cadre of ST fans from the college years -- not so many around me anymore. Were I to make a comment about Bannerman, they MIGHT connect with the guy at the football game, but certainly not with a song. And if I say "I'm good, I'm humble, I'm better than you," they either think I'm vain or very ironic.

I may have to find a good Steve Taylor CD to listen to in the car on the way to music class today.