Max and Miles who, to Me, Will Always be Secretly Named "Gus"

The blog about Max and his little brother, Miles. Stunningly cute boys and future leaders of the rebel forces.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Telephone Time!

This is just an excuse to tell you all to buy the DVD set "Mr. Show: The Complete First and Second Season". Somewhere in there - second season, I think - is a sketch of Bob and David playing a couple of guys in a job interview. Buy the DVDs, find this sketch, turn on the commentary track. The funny, it'll change your life.

Barring all that, though, having Max walk around the house, picking up phones is pretty funny, too. He holds them up to his ear with a "Uuuhhhhaa?" A sound which is the baby equivalant of "Hello" and/or a giant question mark Once he's established who the imaginary party is attempting to reach, hands the phone to either Mom or Dad.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Dad, Your Conditioner is Hilarious

I was scrolling down through the page of posts and noticed that, out of, say, 10 posts, one or two had a picture of Max smiling. Now, this is a for a couple of reasons: 1. When Max is smiling, you are smiling and you only want to smile. Also, you are dumbstruck by the smiling and the laughing and the cuteness and you don't want anything to get in the way of that. There's no time or inclination to get up and get the camera. It would be like sticking a dirty sock in your crack pipe. 2. Confused, uncertain, or hesitant babies make better foils for highly comedic writing, the sort of which you find at this blog.

The question, I guess, is: do you like laughing or you do like to see pictures of babies laughing?

Oh, ok. Here you go then:

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Now With More Motor Function than the Renaissance Festival

While eating with hands might be for ok for some, Max is just much classier than that. For the past few weeks, he's been trying to grab food off the sppon as it heads for his face or, at times, just grabbing the spoon: "Gah! No, Dad, this is how you use a spoon!" Whereupon, he bangs the spoon into a bowl or onto his highchair tray.

The other day, after some intense spoon-jamming into a yogurt cup, he suddenly began to aim the yogurt-coated business-end of the spoon at his face. This, folks, is what we call in Parenting, a Major Milestone!

And, as the boy as proven in the past, once you show him the path, he's a fast learner. A few days later, bored with the spoon, he went for something with a tinge of danger: the fork.

It's not clear how any of this development will have a direct effect on his steps towards mowing. I do suppose that you need to eat before you have the energy to mow so, I guess it's a good thing.

For you total Max freaks, here are some bonus pictures that were too dangerously cute for the interweb blog-o-rama. This includes one that proves that, while we feel like we're doing more while multi-tasking, we're really just doing more, poorly.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

The Unabashed Hedonist

Back in the day, before I knew better, before I had any inkling of self-control or shame, I could eat. By this I mean, I would get my allowance on Friday, walk down to the 7-11 where I would purchase a giant bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and a sixer of Mello-Yello, play a few games of Galaga, and walk home. Being the early Eighties (an era, apparently, every Republican running for president wishes it were: American Psycho) and it being Friday, I'd crack a 'Yello, open the Ranchers and plop down for a night of Miami Vice, Friday Night Videos and Night Flight, watching until the Doritos were gone and only kernels remained of some salty buttered popcorn.

And, so, the other night, when my boy grabbed a canister of puffs and proceeded to walk around, jamming his hand inside to grab a handful, and cramming said handful into his mouth, I felt that I was seeing genetics in full effect. Arm in jar up to elbow. Hand to mouth, full of puffs. Excess puffs falling to floor as Max points and grunts happily. Hand back in, up to elbow. Stuffing, pointing, grunting.

Daddy was so proud.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Dirt is Yummy

We have this great book. Ok, we have a few of these great books by Leslie Patricelli: Yummy/Yucky, Big/Little, Blankie. Classics, every one. Interestingly, there is no judgement about dirt in Yummy/Yucky. There's soup: soup is yummy. There's coffee: coffee is yucky. That one always gives Max "confused-puppy-head" 'cause Daddy has always explained that "without coffee, there is no life." So, how could coffee be yucky? Oh yeah, Hot Sauce is yucky. Who knew?

And there's sand; sand is yucky. Sandwiches are yummy, but sand is yucky. The book is full of dichotomies like that. I keep looking for the hidden page that illustrates Capitalism and Communism.

However, if you'll notice: there is no judgment about dirt. Why? Because dirt is yummy, silly!

Hello Googlers of "dirt is yummy"! Be sure to check out other, even funnier and cuter posts: Max in the Gutter, Max and the Poodle, Max Strolling, Patriotic Max.

Thanks for visiting!

We Watch a lot of Conan in this House

We love us some Conan O' Brien 'round here. It seems to have rubbed off on the boy somehow. He must be waking up to us laughing while we surf Conan's site.

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