My Kids' Dad Might Be a Geek

U.S. prime time television starts at 2 a.m. in the Middle East. Sometimes that is perfect. It meant no one  objected when I totally zoned out and watched the entire NFL Draft without paying attention to anyone else. Loved it. That was my best NFL Draft watching geek out in at least 10 years (Ziggy!).

Though now that they've made it a two day affair, it's gotten tricky. I started having Tim Burton hallucinations narrated by Mel Kiper, Jr. starting around 3 a.m. day two.

Then, having lunch with some friends today, I discovered that NFL Draftiness is not the upper limit of my geekdom. James Bond films were the topic. Skyfall's box office revenue the debate. My addition, "It's really not that impressive when you consider that Thunderball is the highest grossing Bond film of all time if you adjust for inflation."

This was received with incredulity and then confirmed by smart phone. Then, "How did you know that?" and "Why did you know that?"

I have my things.

Most Honorable Mother-In-Law Visit (as told by Son-In-Law)

The travel agency offered a discounted pyramid tour to welcome my "most honorable mother-in-law" to Egypt.

First item of business, will we be able to watch March Madness? Yes. Okay, this might be a good trip. Though, somehow I was watching alone at 2 a.m. when young Mr. Ware discovered what bone marrow looks like.

Half-drunk Diet Coke in kitchen. Half-drunk Diet Coke on the dining table. Half-drunk Diet Coke on the coffee table. Half-drunk Diet Coke in the car...make that two in the car. There's another on the coffee table. And one in the bathroom. Wait, is that a half-drunk Diet Coke by the kitty litter? I draw the line!

On day two, Martha was able to enjoy watching The Hobbit after the manner of Caleb.

"Nana, they don't really show it, but it's a dragon. Really it's a fire drake, but normal people just call it a dragon. It's from the north. Dragons love gold."

"Nana, did you know that when Gollum makes that noise it sounds like he's saying 'gollum'? That's how he got his name."

"What does incinerate mean?"

On day three I went to Cairo American College (where the kids attend) and found that Martha already had three times as many friends as I do. And I have friends, despite what you might think.

On day four the art work moved and the bookshelves were rearranged.

We went to the pyramids, as depicted in prior post, and then went to the papyrus racket, er, store and then to the, um, essence place, or something, where they put drops of mint "essence" in hot water and had me sniff it and then Moses led the Israelites through my sinus cavity. So that was different. Caleb was sick, so I sat in the car eating Nilla Wafers with him for the remainder of the essence sniffing. Sometimes sick kids are just what you need.

Everyone ended up, somehow, sleeping in wrong rooms on Easter night. So, of course, when Maddie woke first, and saw Easter eggs in Caleb's room where she was sleeping, she hunted them all down and picked them all up. When I came to and saw her arms full of Easter eggs and her bedroom door still closed: Danger!

I invited her to read the Easter Bunny's note: that he had left each kids' eggs in their own bedrooms. At that very moment, Caleb exited Maddie's room (why was he sleeping in there, I wondered in excruciating bewilderment) and asked what the note said. Maddie, with typical tact, explained: The Easter Bunny hid each of our eggs in our own rooms but don't worry I already found all of yours.

So Katie stepped in and negotiated a cease fire involving exchange of real estate and surrender of certain sovereign rights. At length chocolate was eaten, teeth rotted, and the people rejoiced.

Went to the Red Sea (Gulf of Suez technically, but it's all connected right). Friends from church had a baptism in the Red Sea while we were there. Oh the serene spiritual power of giant poisonous jellyfish. So Caleb decided he will just execute his baptism (coming next year) in the small pool behind the church villa.

And then the Most Honorable Mother In Law departed, and we were sad.

A Trip To The Pyramids

FYI, Caleb is imitating statue on opposite wall.

Entering the tomb

Maadi Little League Dodgers Game 1

Caleb at 2nd

Coach Tim

Strong swing, followed by...

Base hit

Tim's New Arrival and Caleb's 7th

So I prevailed upon Katie to let me get this (not the girl, which we already had):

Yep, 55 inches.  I thought it would make me happy...and I was right!  Well, I was having mild buyer's remorse until it's second day of operation when we put it to use for Caleb's movie night birthday party viewing of Rise of the Guardians.

This scene pretty much cured all buyer's remorse as it contributed mightily to what Caleb declared "the best birthday party ever." Congratulations to Katie who executed it with basically no help from me. Other highlights include:

Concession stand...and silly walk

Lebanon is Awesome

Just got back from Beirut. Lebanon is beautiful. In the same day, you can have a sun drenched beach morning and then spend the afternoon skiing.

And they have the greatest chocolate store: Patchi.  The chocolates are kept in a glass vault, like a bank.  I bought some small mints and a little square of hazelnut chocolate for $24.  I don't think they were accustomed to such low spending.  When I placed my would-be purchases on the counter, the clerk asked, "Where is your purchase?"

"Um, this is it."

He looked around, as though missing something.  "No, I mean what you are going to buy."

"Oh, I'm just getting these."

Then he looked at me blankly for a long time before requesting my credit card.

Lucky Conclusion: Tender Mercies

In parting ways with Lucky we really wanted to find him a home. The kids prayed for a good home for Lucky. Katie prayed for a good home for Lucky. I sort of hoped for a good home and kind of prayed but really was sort of cynical about the praying thing assuming for I-don't-know-what-reason that such a prayer wouldn't make a difference anyway and that Lucky would just end up back at the shelter.

I am rebuked in my lack of faith. As Neal A. Maxwell would say, the Great God of the Cosmos is in the details of our lives. Prayer answered.

Katie happened upon a woman willing and wanting to take on another dog in an environment entirely conducive to providing a thriving life for a little terrier such as our Lucky. And we can even visit him from time to time.

I think the kids are awestruck and slightly disappointed (because they will miss Lucky, bites notwithstanding) at the speed with which the prayer was answered.

(Not So) Lucky: A Dog's Story

I climbed a mountain and I turned around. Surely, Stevie Nicks had in mind the circumstance of having to part with a recently adopted dog when she penned these lyrics.

Oh, Lucky, you never really had a fair chance. We're not dog people. I've never had a dog. Katie has not had a dog in decades. So to have our first dog be a one-year old former street fighter was a bit foolhardy in retrospect. We attempted due diligence but simply did not know what we did not know.

We are busy people and we have three kids who behave unpredictably toward the dog. Is it fair to the kids to bring home a long-wished-for pet only to tell them to stay away from him while he learns to be around humans? Is it fair to the dog to punish him for reacting in the only way he knows to what must seem like aggressive provocations from the kids?

He showed enough positive signs that we thought we could train him. He showed this same signs to trusted dog people we consulted. Another bite, however, and the line is drawn. We will part ways with Lucky.

I am disappointed by this. The kids are conflicted to pieces. They understand not liking dogs that bite, but they, like Katie and me, also love the dog. We unwittingly put him in a difficult situation. I believe Katie is also conflicted. Lucky seems to love her the most. But I can't have a dog that is committed to protecting my wife from my kids (i.e. keeping them away from their mother). Somewhere along the way we made some kind of newbie dog owner mistake and he thinks Katie is his and no one else can have her. While no doubt flattering for Katie, this is an untenable arrangement.

We are doing our best to find him a proper home but so far no takers. There is the shelter...Oh, Lucky, I am sincerely very sorry.

Valentine's 2013 Playlist

Time in a Bottle--Jim Croce
Runaways--The Killers
Something to Talk About--Bonnie Raitt
Love You Like a Love Song--Selena Gomez
Brittle Heart--Brett Anderson
Because the Night--10,000 Maniacs
Don't Know Why--Norah Jones
Hero--Enrique Iglesias
Rhythm of Love--Plain White T's
Going to California--Led Zeppelin

My Recent Work in Jordan (Thank You for My Job)

I have income because U.S. taxpayers give up a bit of theirs.  I ponder the moral obligation of this arrangement every day.  Here is a report I helped produce with my little share of your tax dollars:  Review of USAID/Jordan's Cash Transfer Activities.

Happy Family Saturday at the Villa

Firstly (not a word, I know, but it should be), let me explain that I find myself without a true weekend in Cairo and this is the most severe element of culture shock. Thursday is Friday, but Friday is Sunday rather than Saturday. Therefore, we have church Friday morning and thus cannot party Thursday night. Friday, being Sunday, also fails to provide a party night ('cause, you know, the sabbath and the keeping holy and all that). Then Saturday, which remains more or less Saturday, is a work/school night. And I keep thinking Tuesday is Wednesday because it is the third work day and thus I consistently forget about Tuesday evening tasks and/or events.

Secondly (also not a word, but also should be), we try to do fun family things on Saturday. We especially enjoy Wadi Degla, known to Maadi denizens as simply "the wadi," for hiking and cave exploring. We recently added baseball in the back yard of the church building, known to those in the know as "the villa," to our activity list.

So I set off yesterday (Saturday, which is still Saturday), minivan loaded with water bottles, whiffle balls, bat, dog, leash, remote control helicopter, etc. for various anticipated adventures including but not limited to the wadi, the villa, and the commissary (a consumer packaged goods brand manager bonanza).

We decided to try tee ball at the villa for our first stop. The five minute car ride took about fifteen minutes, however, as we frequently stopped for Henry's in-car time outs imposed for infractions including but not limited to hitting, biting, name calling, spitting, and whining. That sentence could be considered foreshadowing.

Once at the villa, the tee ball game was delayed by picking up Lucky's poo (we will not be welcomed back if we leave his poo to be gathered by shoes that may end up befouling the air during sacrament meeting). The game was further delayed by the flying of the helicopter. Said delays caused more of the aforementioned timeoutable Henry behaviors. So that was lovely. While dealing with such a meltdown, I heard yelling about the helicopter. I turned and saw it flying over the roof of the villa.

"Not over the roof," I yelled. Mistake. You see, my Madeline, controlling the chopper at that moment, is a freezer. Upon hearing my yell, she did not correct. No. She froze. She let go of the controls, which causes the helicopter to descend, which it did, right onto the inaccessible rooftop. There followed all manner of recrimination, brief climbing attempts, and senseless jumping.

During all of this, Lucky-who-was-off-his-leash (and we) discovered that he fits through the rails of the villa's front gate. And he made a run for it. We had never really tested whether he would reliably return to us and I wasn't really excited for this to be the moment. Madeline screamed for him.

"Maddie, go get the treats and run after him," I suggested. You see, my Madeline is a freezer. It required several moments of looking blankly from me to the vanishing dog for her to rally. But rally she did! Once she found the treats and ran into the road and discovered that she could not see Lucky, it was too late (for her, not the dog). The panic was too much and she succumbed.

Skipping much detail, I found Lucky a few moments later as he reliably came running to the distinctive sound of his treat bag opening. We were all feeling quite tense, however, and accusations (along with fists) were flying. I warned and then punished. No more tee ball at the villa. No wadi. And no home either (because Katie was getting a much deserved rest). So we sat in the car for 20 glorious minutes of weeping and wailing.

It was a great Saturday. Can't wait to do it again next week.

And guess what is sitting on the step outside the villa as I type this? A little baggie of Lucky poop.