Ava Doing Her Thang

Ava is so cool. Everything she does, she does with her own style and flair. For her 1st grade fun run, she insisted on wearing her sweet striped socks and carrying her fanny pack, complete with full water bottle. She did awesome and had a ton of fun!

Krypto Babe Magnet

Okay, this is how it goes...

• You get any random five numbers between 1-25
• Then you get a sixth random number between 1-25
• Finally , you use any combination of addition, subtraction, multiplication or division with the first 5 numbers to equal the sixth number.
• You can use them in any order.
  

For example, five random numbers: 2, 20, 18, 7, 11
A sixth random number: 14

2x20= 40
40-18= 22
22/11= 2
2x7= 14

That's how you play Krytpo! It's really easy, fun, exercises the brain and makes you more popular.

Now, when I was in school, I was the Krypto champion. You heard me correctly. I played in competitive Krypto tournaments. This is how it'd go down; several uber-cool students would sit around a table, while a dealer would distribute cards with numbers on them and place a master number in the middle. We then had to figure out the problem and shout "Krypto!" before anyone else. As everyone was pretty good at head math at this level, you usually had to end up saying Krypto right after you flipped your cards over. Then we had to explain how to solve the math problem. If you faltered or hesitated even for a moment, the other competitors (I use that term loosely) would shout in protest and the dealer would eliminate you from that round. So, even if you didn't have the problem figured out, you could try and bluff your way through it. If nobody caught you, or you figured it out on the spot, then you'd get the points for that round. At the end of many rounds the dealer adds up all the points and declares the winner. They then advance from table to table, leaving behind a wake of crushed dreams...smashed on the rocks of reality. The reality that the loser goes home and cries themselves, and their big neuron sparking melon, to sleep on their huge pillow.

Here is my dilemma. I ruled at Krypto. For two years (it would have been three in a row had I not been cheated by the hairy knuckled loser, Simon McDonald) I was the king of Krypto. I had my picture on the wall in the math lab, a manila colored certificate, and had my name promulgated over the intercom during morning announcements. It went something like this;

"So, that's all for sports, SNORE!!!. Now to the good stuff. The annual Krypto tournament was held on Friday night. Not sure why they did it on a Friday night, you'd think these studs of statistics would be out with their older, totally hot girlfriends from the community college, but no, they put that aside for one night of mathematical mayhem. Good thing they did, 'cause a packed auditorium witnessed a display of cranial combustion! In case you weren't there, not likely, or haven't heard, decidedly less likely, the new number krunching king is...no surprise, Todd "I brought my own folding chair, thank you" Jensen. Defending his title and winning a SAH-WHEAT new mobile computer and/or calculator thingy that he can even strap onto his wrist if he's ever in a pinch. If you see him in the hall, say congrats...he makes us Jaguars proud!"

So, back to my dilemma. Since those glory years of my youth, I've had to try and convince Annie that I was incredibly cool when I was young. You see, sports, student government, being funny and other non-essentials weren't really big at my school. Strange, I know. It was a nutty little oasis where girls just loved the math guys. Intriguing kids, draped in mystery and subtle allure, that could think on the spot and quickly turn out little mind puzzles- just drove them crazy. It was a strange phenomenon that Annie hasn't been able to buy into...yet. I'm hopeful that if I play my cards right, and continue to correct her head math in public whenever opportunity permits, she'll eventually see the appeal, and know just how lucky she really is.

Did I just hear that?

As some of you may know, I work at home. Being home most days, I see and hear all sort of behind the scene quips that make my family life feel like a crazy, over the top sitcom. A funny, but loving family having everyday adventures. Let me share a few of the gems I’ve overheard just recently, from my office/lare in the basement that make me scratch my head. You can mentally insert a phony laugh-track between each, if you like.

Annie on the phone, in a very serious conversation with her sister:

“Look, Lis, I don’t care! If a vampire loves a vampire that’s fine. If a werewolf loves a werewolf, I'll live with it. But when a werewolf falls in love with a vampire, that’s where I draw the line. It’s unacceptable, they are eternal enemies! It’s going against the natural order of things. No, they could never co-exist! EVER!”

Clark (3) eating a bowl of cereal in the kitchen all by himself in silence:

“This is freaking good.” [long silence and more chewing]

“Mmmmmm. This is really freaking good…”

Ava (7), working child-slave labor for my company:

“Dad, this is really boring. I just sit here all day doing stupid stuff while you do all the cool stuff. I just sit over here in the corner and pick colors for your website all day, [rolls her eyes] like that’s soooooo important. I quit!”

[storms upstairs, then yells down from the top step]

“I’m going to start my own business, so I can fire you! But I won’t fire you because I won’t even hire you! My business is going to have a party every day, and we’re not going to invite your business, because you guys are boring and had me do stupid stuff! If you ever want my business to help you, I’m going to make you pay tons of money, like five dollars or ten dollars, but then I’ll still tell you ‘NO’!”

What are some of the crazy things that make you wonder to yourself, “Did I just hear what I thought I heard?”

Holy Herriman, Batman!

So I watched the new Batman movie, “Dark Knight”. I really liked it. Probably more than I should have. I even made a commitment to myself; if I ever become filthy rich I will become the mysterious protector of Herriman City. Nightly prowling through the shadows in search of mischievous, no good, wrong doers. At the least, I’ll scare off those noisy kids at the skate park. I can’t be Batman, that name in copyrighted, but I can still be the symbol of hope for a small city that is looking for a reason to believe. So, I’m trying to think of a cool name, and could use some help here. These are my thoughts so far;

Black Man- I don’t mean this in a racist fashion, it’s merely a description. I would just be the guy dressed in black dishing out my own brand of vigilante justice. Plus, the name would intimidate those from the dark underbelly of Herriman, because they’ve probably never seen a Black Man before.

Mongoose Man- Okay, hear me out with this one. For anyone who ever watched “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” when they were children know that Mongeese can hunt and kill the most venomous snakes in the world, all while displaying the most lovable personalities. It may not strike fear into the hearts of criminals right away, but once they are alone in the dark and think about its sublime meaning they’ll find me quite worrisome.

Bourne Ultimatumus- Face it, Jason Bourne rules! He kicks your teeth in, steals your identity, then rides a motorcycle through the chaotic streets of Ciro while hacking into the CIA’s GPS satellite on his cell phone. Any derivative of his name is a sure winner. Also, this version sounds a bit like a Jason Bourne dinosaur. Bonus!

Hairy-Man- the defender of Herriman. You see, it’s a play on words. Although it's not really scalable, if I decide to expand into other cities. Even then, it would remind criminals of their receding hairlines, slowly chipping away at their self-confidence.

That’s all I’ve got so far. I would love your input and ideas. Please provide a name, the reasoning, and finally what I would call my lare (i.e. the bat cave), as this is an important part of my decision. As I could become awesomely rich any time now, alacrity is paramount.

Heroically yours,

Todd

Personal Olympic Flame

The Olympics are really great. I can sit in front of my television, ice cream in hand, and watch really dedicated people display their athletic prowess on the world stage. Chiseled bodies, disciplined minds, less hair than a new born, less body fat than my index finger and a glaring, focused look in their eyes that I could use to start a fire, if I just had some kindling handy. These athletes ignite a sense of pride, a great feeling about myself, then a strong desire to dedicate myself to something, anything…followed by a little nettlesome voice in the back of my head, somewhere just behind my left Temporal Lobe, reminding me of a few inconsequential but nagging facts:

1. I just turned 33 and am losing the battle between my mental powers over nature and the aging process.
2. I am doing well to just not trip over my own feet.
3. With responsibilities like a wife, two children and legions of needy blog fans, I am hard pressed to dedicate 14 hours a day to running, swimming, flipping about, doping up and/or shaving my body hair.
4. Although I look stunning, I feel uncomfortable in most ultra tight, super short, excessively aerodynamic and overly restrictive athletic wear. Especially in High Definition.
5. My children already think I’m the greatest athlete of all time. After all, I can jump up and touch the ceiling, throw a football “over ‘dem mountains” and wrestle them into submission at will. I don’t need to prove anything to them. Also, with the only slightly exaggerated stories I tell Annie, nightly, about my athletic past, she surely thinks I’m at least somewhat gifted, if not the flat out King of Studville.

After remembering all this, I look up at the television, shake my head and laugh to myself, “This is their moment, Todd. Let them have the limelight. Let them shine and prance around in $5,000 spandex, and then lose by one millionth of a second and return to their homeland a disgrace. It’s their dream, not mine…not mine.”