Sage scored twice in this morning's b-ball game. Here she is moving well without the ball and knocking down the open jumper. (Warning: if you're not a blood relative of Sage's, this is 39 seconds of your life you'll never have back.)
Evan (overheard playing with Legos by himself): "So today, kids, we learned a valuable lesson: Always wear pants." "That's a totally worthless lesson!" "Fine. Today we learned a valuable lesson: You should never travel through other dimensions. But if you do, always make sure to improve a dimension before you leave it."
that one reason I'm posting less frequently is that the things Evan now says tend to sound like this: "Want to hear the list of things I need? At the top is an infrared illuminator. Then I need a four-pin-by-six-pin firewire cable. And then I need, probably, a good external microphone. And I'm NOT waiting until Christmas."
Evan: "I think Waverly Hills is way scarier than Bobby Mackey's Music World. If I had to do a ghost investigation at one of them, I'd go to Bobby Mackey's in a heartbeat, even though it's the portal to heck."
A bunch of grownups were talking, without really knowing what we were talking about, about the discovery of the Higgs Boson and its implications for the universe. Evan happened by and asked, "What's the Big Bozo?"
Evan: "Man, that's the second time that tree has hurt me! It makes me want to saw off that branch and cut it up into little pieces, then turn the pieces into pulp, then turn the pulp into paper and scribble all over the paper and then crumple the paper up and throw it in the toilet and flush the toilet!"
Evan: "A lot of people just sit around on their couches and watch movies and play video games, and they never think about who makes all of that stuff for them. I'm more the creative type. I'd rather make things for their benefit. Except that the movies I make are for my benefit, too, because I'm going to make millions."
Eric: "Well, they're for your benefit mainly because you can take satisfaction in them. And when you get to the end of your life you'll be able to look back proudly at all the movies you made."
Sage: "Tonight Andrea said, 'Close your mouth, lock it, take the key and hide it in your brain,' and I said, 'Build a door in your brain, open the door, let the key drift out and float over to Maggie, and let Maggie use it to unlock your mouth.'"
Evan: "Now everybody's playing a game called 'Dare to Dare' at recess, and it's a really stupid game. You're supposed to jump off this big caterpillar toy and shout 'I LOVE BUTTS!' That's when I stopped playing."
Here's my annual photo of the kids in front of the azalea at 401 Woodlawn, where their great-great-great-grandmother once lived. That'll teach Sage to wear a field of flowers. An adult female Polyphemus moth.
Sage: "I had a dream where I met a big KU basketball player, and then we were friends, and then I showed him to you, and you started going kind of crazy and saying all these cuss words, and then we had a picnic, and then my dream was over."
I spent most of a recent parent-teacher conference discussing cameras and what to do about them. Evan's teacher finds them in the margins of spelling tests and math homework. Here's one in the hand of a simile skydiver: And here's Evan in the shower this evening:
Eric: "Same reason I don't believe in flying bananas."
Evan: "Really? Do you realize that monkeys can throw them? You could put a jet pack on a banana, or strap it to a firework. What if you took one into space and then let go of it. Astronomers would look through their telescopes and say, 'There's the Big Dipper. There's Orion's Belt. And there's Evan's Banana.'"
Tonight I offered Evan $2 if he could go half an hour without talking about cameras. He spent fifteen minutes talking about them indirectly by asking if he could talk about boom mics or shotgun mics or movie-making or other things related to cameras. Then he spent about five minutes pounding his fist on the table and stuffing his cloth napkin in his mouth and looking like he was going to go crazy and asking how much time was left. Then he accidentally mentioned a camera.
Evan, bless him, is the most monomaniacal person I've ever met, and in the last 6 months or so his enthusiasm has shifted almost completely from Legos to cameras. He thinks about them all day, talks about them whenever he talks, and, apparently, dreams about them every night (if his morning dream-report is to be believed). Here's a small snippet from a typical monologue:
"That'd be cool if someone created a really awesome ghost-hunting TV show that drove all the other ghost-hunting shows out of business, and so they gave me all of their equipment. And then the awesome ghost-hunting show got driven out of business by a cooking show, and so I got all of their equipment too. I'd have, like, 70 static night-vision cameras and 50 tripods."
Eric (looking for the cat before backing the car out): "Where's Roosevelt?"
Evan: "I see him. He's over there. I have excellent night-vision. Grandma Sue says I have cat's eyes. I eat lots of carrots. I wonder if you could make your camera higher-quality by feeding it carrots. My camera would be fat from carrots. Maybe I could make a standard-definition camera into an HD camera by rubbing carrot juice on the lens."
Today I took Evan and some friends shopping for makeup, costumes, and props for their next movie. At Walgreens, they got eyeliner and eye shadow and a mascara brush and a lip pencil; Evan asked me not to stand near them when they went to pay for it, "because I want to get weird looks from the clerks." Later, at the thrift store, where old disco hits were playing over the speakers, he said, "Wow. They even have thrifty music."
Evan: "I think I'm kind of a psychic. Because you know in the gym where there are those marks on the floor, the marks left by people's shoes? Well when I stand on those marks, for some reason I can throw the tennis ball kind of high."