Fascinating things

1. David's naked face
Every year or so, David shaves off his beard. I like to see how things have changed under there since the last time I saw his face. I've known this guy since we were 12 and I like to watch him age. So he shaves in sections and I get to see him with a pro wrestler handlebar moustache, then with a little Charlie Chaplin deal, then finally, just before the razor blade is shredded to bits and begs for mercy, the whole thing is gone. He slaps on some after shave, I kiss him, and the beard immediately starts growing back.

Today was a little different because Thomas was really wounded by the change. First of all, he'd voted that David should keep the beard "because he looks really handsome that way". Then after David shaved Thomas said his skin smelled funny. The poor kid's heart was broken. He cried for a good long time before we convinced him to go to sleep, clutching a picture of his dad with a beard to his chest. He plans to sleep with it until David's face is safely covered and order is restored to the universe.

2. Fumes
As mentioned above, the smell of aftershave can be a really emotional thing. For me, it's diesel. I. Love. Diesel. Fumes. I never mind getting stuck behind the slow truck on the highway because the fumes take me back to the times I spent driving my first car, an ancient forest green diesel mercedes. Life was good then. I loved those headrests.

And Jane added another smell to the list tonight when we were sitting in traffic and from the back seat she said with much feeling, "I love to smell gas."

Hmm.

3. Simulations

I am completely fascinated by those time lapse animations they use to sell acne medication, diet plans and cellulite cream. And it's a good thing because those three companies are particularly relentless. There hasn't been a time in the last month that I've gotten online without one of those animations popping up. And they never play just once. Over and over again the face lift lady's wrinkles melt away, then reappear and drag down her whole face, then quickly firm up again. No matter how many times I see it, I never get tired of it. And the disappearance of the horrible acne stops me mid sentence every time it appears when I'm checking my email. I don't even mind that it's **not actual images. Results are simulated. To my credit, I've never even been tempted to click on the ads or discover what the products are.

Still, maybe I've been spending too much time on the computer....

R2D2 smells like bubble gum

I love how having kids makes every day life so much more fun. Yesterday while I was out looking for ways to justify the fact that I was not packing, I decided to vacuum out and wash the van. We pulled up to the gas station and Jane got to put the quarters in the vacuum machine. Then she danced around begging for a turn with the gigantic vacuum hose until I finally relented and let her have the last 10 seconds before our time ran out. She had such a wild determination in her eyes. I could easily imagine her wrestling anacondas--and enjoying it-- after watching her wield that vacuum hose.

We went through the car wash next. A guy came out and mopped down our windows first. That was an adventure in itself. "OOH! He's going to do mine next!" "Hey, I see a double headed dragon in the suds!" "HEY! Now he's doing MY window!"

Then we entered the tunnel o' fun. Worth every penny of the eight bucks we spent. The car wash is better than any amusement park ride. The first part of the show was the foamy pink stuff. In addition to being really cool to watch, it had a nice fruity smell that lingered in our ventilation system for a few hours afterward.

Mom: Hey, can you smell that? That foamy stuff smells good, huh?
Thomas: Yeah, it smells like GUM! THAT FOAM SMELLS LIKE BUBBLE GUM! IT SMELLS LIKE PINK BUBBLE GUM!! (Thomas has one volume these days).
Jane: It smells like BUBBLE GUM!!!
Benjamin: It smells like R2D2!

Our life is really good.

I used to speak French!

J'etais en retard; c'est a dire que j'ai commence a me preparer pour partir a six heures, mais il etait neuf heures et demie quand j'ai finalement quitte la maison....

I'm trying to pack up all of my books. Still. Thirty boxes later. I have most of the actual books packed up, but the bookshelves aren't bare yet. They're still cluttered with "not quite a book but it still belongs on the bookshelf" stuff.

Like the binder of kindergarten projects David did in school. One was a picture of him in the middle of a yellow felt flower. I looked at him and thought about how that little kid grew up to be the man I love and how my little kindergarten son is also growing up so quickly. I can already see the man inside of him.

And then I found the binder from the last French class I ever took in college. And I could barely read my own paper. But how exhilarating to be reminded that I once had that kind of brain power! I really have to get back to school. I think I found the community college where I want to go as soon as possible. I've really missed that kind of stimulation.

Vocabulary

I love to listen to my kids talk.

"Mom, do bugs have skin?"
Thomas, go to bed. "But I need to be accompanied."
"We encouraged him to run and he accidentally fell down."

I need to record these things when they happen. I seem to have forgotten all the other recent favorites. Darn.