Blog Ing

Posted By Ing on April 4, 2008

You may remember my post a few days ago about spam comments and Monty Python’s Spam video.  (More likely you don’t…in which case, here’s what you missed.)

By the way, I spiced things up by putting a couple of pictures in this post.  I read in some blog that purports to be an arbiter of blogospheric quality that photos are essential to blogging, and I don’t want to create a hole in the Blog Ing bozone layer, so I have put two photos — TWO — in this post.  Photos of words…but still technically photos.  Well, as long as we’re being technical, they’re scans, not photos.  Probably not what the experts had in mind when they wrote that article, but it’s all I’ve got right now.

Well, with that digression (or rudession, perhaps?) out of the way, let’s get on with the story. 

PART ONE 
In which a small person makes a polite request

While writing the aforementioned post about spam and Monty Python, I just couldn’t resist chortling over that Spam video again.  And again.  And again.  And again.  And again.  Maybe it says something about my maturity level (or lack thereof), but I could watch that Monty Python routine all day. 

I might have actually done that, but a certain small person in the household took matters into her own hands.

She sat down next to me at her writing desk, went to work with a pen, and handed me this:

“Ha ha ha,” I said.  “I’ll be done in a minute, my Boo.”

Of course I had to watch it again, though, just to make sure there wasn’t some elusive nanosecond of hilarity I’d missed.  And then because it was so funny, I watched it again and laughed some more.  It’s almost addictive…but not really. I can quit anytime.

PART TWO
In which I don’t know when to quit

The young-un sat down to work at her desk again.  “Oh good,” thought I, “she’s drawing a picture.  Now that she’s busy, I can continue writing this post on my blog.”  Or pretending to while watching Monty Python again. 

A couple minutes later she shoved this in front of the screen and glared at me.

While I looked at the latest handwritten demand, I hit “play” and let the hilarity roll again.

The little one was not amused.  She stood glowering and impatiently tapping her foot while the Vikings sang their Spam chorus for at least the fifteenth time that morning. 

I wasn’t really watching or listening to the video, though.  Under cover of the video, I was chuckling over her notes.

I love the way she spells.  She’s only six, so she doesn’t have all the rules down.  Doesn’t worry about them, either.  Instead she usually approaches writing with her typical artistic spirit, refusing to do anything so prosaic as to check for spelling; she knows what words she wants, and brings them into being however she chooses. 

I think it’s safe to say she’ll probably never become a human spellchecker like her deranged father. 

When I finally tore myself away from the computer, it turned out that her handwritten ultimatum was also a veiled request for breakfast.  I’m tempted to believe her wanting food had some connection to the many mentions of Spam, but I don’t think the kids even realize Spam is actually food.  Or was, before the internet came along.  (But wait…did that stuff ever really count as food?) 

But with hungry kids clamoring, I reluctantly shelved my speculation (and that insidious Monty Python video) and went off to make a late breakfast — if only there had been some some Spam in the house.

p.s. – If you’re not familiar with kidspeak, I’ll translate the notes into standard adultish on request.

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