August 30, 2011

A few thoughts while thanking the Hurricane Gods that Irene didn’t hit us harder…

Ariel likes to be the DJ in the car (or at least exert total control over the music selections by clearly and with utter conviction stating her demands, even if she’s not able to physically run the show from her car seat), and lately, she’s been feeling Lady Gaga. Yesterday in the car she demanded the “Chachi” song, and was not at all pleased with my inability to immediately provide it. I of course was racking my brain to figure out what she wanted, and was afraid that maybe the classic show “Joanie Loves Chachi” had a theme song I didn’t recall, and somehow she had become fond of it. I think everyone can agree that’s a harrowing thought. Turns out she wanted “Paparazzi.” Which from now on will always be, to me, the Chachi song.

Ariel is in that nether world between school and camp right now (this period is of course lovingly referred to by moms throughout the northeast as “Purgatory”), and Belle took the girls out yesterday with a friend to the mall. There was a place to throw in a coin and make a wish, and Ariel wished that the Red Sox win the World Series, despite the efforts of her friend’s Dad, Mr. Fabulous, to corrupt her into making a pro-Yankees wish. Now, first of all, obviously Mr. Fabulous’ behavior was reprehensible and he now finds himself in grave danger of receiving a far less flattering nickname. Like Mr. Stupid Head or something. But more importantly, how about that Ariel! I’m just lucky she’s too young to ask me for a car, because I’d have a hard time saying no right now. Dodged a bullet there…

Ariel went to a birthday party last week and there was a special guest star who showed up right before it was time for cake. None other than the Amazing Spider Man. His performance was indeed quite amazing, as he practically cleared out the room just by walking in. His costume was so scary to this group of 4-year olds that at least 3 kids immediately burst into tears and 2 others ran for the exits as if the Grim Reaper had shown up instead of poor Spidey. This was despite the fact that Spider Man appeared to be about 5 and a half feet tall and maybe 140 pounds soaking wet. Mrs. Fabulous remarked to me that he needs to start P90X or something. To her credit, Ariel was not one of the kids trying desperately to flee the scene, and she even tried to calm down one of her friends who wasn’t enjoying the super hero’s presence in the least bit. I was pretty darn proud of her.