The boys came in the house the other day yelling, pushing, and fighting (as usual) over the usual nothing (who came in the house first, who touched whom, blah blah blah.) Michael (6) was being particularly aggressive.

After they got their shoes off, etc. Michael came into the kitchen and turned toward Michelle smiling and obviously proud:

Michael: "Guess what I did today?"
Michelle: "What did you today today?
Michael (without irony): "I practiced my patience."

Andrew (9) and Michael (6) read my blog the other night for the first time. They now know that I've been writing about them and their misdeeds.

However, rather than being mad about it, they're suggesting new posts all the time. "Dad, why don't you blog about this?" as they start doing something silly.

This is another example of the observer effect in action, I guess. I think I'm in trouble now.

OK, I need a little advice from the blogosphere. Andrew (9) came home and told the following joke that he learned at camp today. I need to figure out a response.

so, a duck walks into a courtroom.
judge: "what's your name and why are you here?"
duck: "My name is quack, and i was sent here for blowing bubbles in the pond."
The judge shakes his head and sends him away.

another duck walks into the courtroom.
judge: "what's your name and why are you here?"
duck: "My name is quack quack quack, and i was sent here for blowing bubbles in the pond."
the judge shakes his head and sends him away too.

a third duck walks into the courtoom.
judge: "let me guess. your name is quack quack quack and you were sent here for blowing bubbles in the pond."
duck: "no, my name is bubbles, and i was sent here for blowing quack and quack quack in the pond."

Andrew told the joke, but he didn't get it and asked us what it meant. I'm pretty sure Michelle's response of running away while holding her napkin over her face and then laughing out loud for minutes in the bedroom was not the right one.

Thoughts?

There's a little lake (really a big pond to this old Minnesotan) near us with a public pier. According to a guy we met there last year, the action at dusk on worms is pretty good, so I took the boys fishing after dinner one night this week.

Sure enough, the stranger was right. As soon as the bait hit the water, we were getting taps and nibbles. The fish were pretty small relative to our hooks, so we mostly were feeding worms to the fish, but Michael (6) managed to catch his first fish (and our only landed fish of the evening).

It was a juvenile large mouth bass -- very pretty really, but tiny. Michael, of course, was delighted. However, he didn't want to throw it back, wanting to take it home and eat it instead (he loves fish). He didn't get the whole catch-and-release thing. The whole time he was whispering, "Eat the hook and die, fishies."

He scares me a little bit.

As I was coming out of a local mall with Andrew (9) and Michael (5) this evening, we passed by a Cold Stone Creamery shop (a good ice cream chain). Michael immediately started pestering me to go in.

Michael: "Please, please, please can we go to Cold Stone?" [repeat n times]

Me: "Michael, stop begging."

Michael: [stopping dead in the parking lot and looking straight at me] "I'm not begging. I"m badgering." ["duh" look on his face.]

Well, damn. I didn't expect to be corrected like this for at least another year or two.

Still, no ice cream. I'm just mean that way. Especially to snarky kids.

As usual, the boys had their baths tonight -- first Michael (5) and then Andrew (8). After Andrew got out of the tub, Michael walked up to him non-chalantly, looked him in the eye, and said, "I peed in the tub" and walked away.

Michelle and I couldn't stop laughing long enough to reprimand him.

This morning the kids were both still sleeping, so I decided to play some music to get them up. I started up the very cool Windows Media Player 11 beta, launched Urge (an online service partnership between Microsoft and MTV), and clicked the first album link I saw -- American Idol winner Kelly Clarkson.

As Since You've Been Gone started blaring out of my speakers, I hear Michael (5) start screaming from his bedroom, "I hate this music!!!!" His screaming becomes more hysterical until he's sobbing and bursting out in tears. I killed the music immediately and had to go console him. It took him a few minutes to pull himself back together.

Making children cry is not a recipe for success or creating passionate users. Kelly, you're a big meanie.

Andrew (8) was being exceptionally well behaved this evening, even offering to clean up a mess Michael made.

Me: "Andrew, I love it when you're this sweet. It's much better than when you're grumpy."
Andrew: "I feel the same way about you."

Damn, fair enough.

This evening, I was reading a book about snakes to Michael (5).

Michael: "King cobras are my favorite snake."
Me: "Why?"
Michael: "Because they can spit venom."
Me: "Do you wish you could spit venom?"
Michael: "Yes. I would kill you first. I'd leave your body for another snake to eat though."

I am never turning my back on him again.

(Did you know the average length of a king cobra is nineteen feet long? As if they weren't scary enough with the venom spitting and the big hood."

We went through the mountains this weekend to Leavenworth for a little outing with Michelle's team. As we approached Stevens Pass, Michael (5) started listing all the ways we could die.

After he enumerated things like driving off the road or getting attacked by bears, he said "If we get stuck in an avalanche, we eat Andrew (8) first."

Where does he get this stuff? I'm going to have to start sleeping with my eyes open.