13 posts tagged “nieces”

They call them the terrible twos, but I've found they're far more receptive to Unkie Hotrod's mischievous tutelage once they turn three.  That's the sweet spot, actually, because it's not much longer before they realize their best bet is to turn against me.  Niece #3 joins those ranks today.  Happy birthday, Midge!  I hope it's a fun year!

Ordinarily, the halfway point to next year's Karaoke to the Death would be big news.  And, of course, it is big news.  But as it happens, there's other, bigger, news on this particular Saturday.  You see, Rushmore - little Rushmore - turns five years old today.  (Five years.  Wow.  Where does the time go?)  And as much as I love Karaoke to the Death, I think a five-year-old's birthday just might take precedence in this instance.  Congratulations, Rushmore, and I hope you have a very happy birthday!  You're even better than a chance to make fun of all my friends.

This kid sure does have a knack for the birthday landing on the right day, though.  This year is the KttD equinox.  Last year was the Neko show.  That's some great timing.

when my sisters and i were much, much younger, our parents instituted a game (of sorts) at dinner-time called "the best part of my day."  it was as simple as it sounds; we went around the table and everybody shared their favorite moment that had until then transpired since they awoke.  and then we all argued about whose "best part" was really the best and whose was actually really lame and that's why i am the way i am.  (haha!  just kidding - no one actually knows why i am the way i am!)  anyway, now that sister #2 has kids who can form thoughts more complex than "cry" and "poop," she plays the same game (of sorts) with her own family.

last sunday was a full day for anyone, not least a six-year-old.  after lunch, we all hastily piled into the van and headed toward downtown atlanta, while a rousing game of twenty questions occupied the time.  once downtown, we headed to centennial park where the tour de [editor's note: ugh] georgia had set up shop for the day.  sunday's final stage was a circuit race, so we had many opportunities to watch the peloton ride by, and during the ten to fifteen minutes between the action there were booths at which to browse, the fountain of rings, and a half-pipe with cycling aerial displays on the hour.  and when we returned home the neighborhood kids were gathered at the creek, where there was a dead fish to be poked with sticks.  like i said, it was a full day.

my parents - whose first visit was timed to coincide with mine - drove me to the airport that night so that my sister could get the girls to bed on time.  as we neared the airport, my sister called.  the girls had been in bed, she told me, for about fifteen minutes, but as per usual, she still heard the sound of their voices after bedtime.  as she walked back to remind them that they were supposed to go to sleep, she realized they were discussing the best parts of their day.  so she hesitated quietly outside their door and thus heard maggie tell her sister, "the best part of my day was when uncle [hotrod] lifted me up on his shoulders so i could see the bike race better."

hearing that story was the best part of my day.

meanwhile....  rushmore was sniffling all weekend, of which i didn't think much at the time.  but it turns out she's generously shared her cold, and now i'm missing my very favorite training ride tomorrow as a result.  guess who "unkie hotrod" loves more.

clashcityrockerkat poses an interesting question.  at the end of an entirely justified rant about time magazine's lame nomination of "us" as person of the year (i mean, i know I deserve it, but what the hell have you done?) kat wants you to defend yourself.  actually, she asks the same of me too, so here goes.  this should be easy.

i had a pretty full year.  way back in january and early february, i was instrumental in the undisputed greatest sports team in the history of competitive endeavors' win of their first super bowl title since i was six years old.  (i realize the team had a little to do with it, but we all know it was my week(end)ly commutes to the 'burgh for the sake of solidarity that put them over the top.)  i rode my bike over 2,000 miles this year - including three centuries - and raised over $6,000 for research into a cure for blood cancers.  i was, in general, a kick-ass marine biologist once again, earning the well-deserved respect and admiration of employers and co-workers alike.  my dear friends remain thankful daily that i have bestowed upon them the gift of my friendship.  and i was a heroic uncle to three awesome nieces and a brand-new nephew.

that list right there is about enough to secure my enshrinement in the time magazine canon, but it doesn't even include my greatest achievement.  on february 19 - amid fierce competition - i delivered two of my very strongest karaoke performances ever, securing a spot on my mantle for the Ramsey Cup until 2007.  as the first ever two-time Karaoke to the Death champion and a first-ballot hall-of-famer, i know the field will be aiming to take me down exactly two months from tomorrow.  bring it on.

i had to travel to ohio this past weekend under sudden and unfortunate circumstances.  my sister and parents picked me up friday at the detroit airport.  i was greeted with a resounding welcome to "uncle hotrod" which quickly devolved to "unkie hotrod" which quickly devolved to "dorky unkie hotrod" and "dorky orky unkie bunky hotrod" and other rhyming derivations thereof.

as recently as three months ago i was a god to my nieces.  there will be hell to pay.  no one is immune; this, i promise you.

a most heartfelt congratulations go out to sister number two and brother-in-law number one.  i learned just now that niece or nephew number five is on the way.  if she or he's as cute as the rest of 'em, well.... i dunno what.  i'll be even more proud?

for a group nearly universally considered to be The Most Important Band Ever To Exist In All The Past, Present, And Future Of Rock And Roll, the beatles wrote some colossally stupid songs.  nowhere is this more evident than on their charmingly flawed eponymous 1968 release - best known as simply "the white album."  for every 'dear prudence' or 'revolution 1' or 'happiness is a warm gun,' there's an equally ridiculous 'bungalow bill' or 'ob-la-di, ob-la-da.'  it's enough to drive a man foolish enough to read meaning into these songs mind-bogglingly insane.  the most grievous offense to propriety is the track that kicks off the record's third side, which celebrates the novel concept that.... wait for it.... birthdays are fun!  you don't say, guys?  that's only the very same message of one of the most popular songs in the world.

we proudly dedicate today's edition of 'not guilty' to maggie, who celebrates her sixth birthday.  she was born on a thursday when i was hoping for friday the thirteenth just like her uncle hotrod.  she screwed that one up, but has done pretty much everything else right since.  happy birthday to ya, maggie.  we're gonna have a good time.

and in interest of equal face time (and also because maggie usurped most of her presents), here's a picture of rushmore, whose birthday we celebrated in north carolina.

three of five of the hotrod clan are now represented on vox with the very first post today of sister #1.  it's long on pictures and short on words, but a first post is worthy of a mention regardless.  i've no idea of her future plans for her new blog, but she should have the time.  i'd sure like a few months off work.  one would think there's time there to poke around a few hours a week.

a standing invite is still out there to ma and pa rod, who i suspect might be more willing to play now that both their non-adopted children are here.  ma, at least.  pa's not having anything to do with the computer.

i'm supposed to be previewing and predicting the upcoming NFL season right about now.  what can i say?  i've got writers' block and it's a bitch.  i am sure it will pass about the time i get to work tomorrow.  in the meantime, here are a few more pictures of young redheads.  young redheads get more comments anyway.

incidentally, this is probably the right time to officially welcome sister #2 to vox with her very first post.  she's new at this, so she probably needs some friends and neighbors.  how about a warm vox welcome?

well, it's beach week here on vox, and nothing says "the beach" quite like a restaurant-type-establishment with a blandly risque name based on a double-entendre designed primarily to sell t-shirts.  you know what i am talking about.  you're at you're local amusement park or state fair and you spy another individual with a fading tan sporting a sizable garment that proclaims that "i got my crabs at dirty dick's!" or that "the best nuts come from the sweaty nutsack!" or some other witticism of questionable taste in polite company.  they're everywhere; it doesn't matter which beach you prefer.

in past years this has been the topic of some jest, as the clever bunch i typically run with has cleverly riffed on the concept - cleverly removing the "double" from the entendre.  it's been quite amusing, and under other circumstances i might actually share with you at this point some of our more clever constructions.  but i leave it this time to your fertile imaginations, as it has recently come to my attention that some members of my family are, in fact, reading this and with that knowledge i have decided i could strive to be... a touch less profane.  maggie, after all, is only five but does know how to read (of which, more in a moment).

so it was with only some stifled tittering from yours truly that we pulled into the parking lot of dirty dick's on - i think - tuesday.  my brother-in-law wanted seafood (as did i, for that matter), and the advertised shrimp and crab lunch buffet seemed to fit the bill.  given my exposure to the place (the aformentioned t-shirts), i was pleasantly surprised that the food was actually pretty good.  i've definitely had worse crab, even in maryland, which prides itself on its crabs.  these weren't bay crabs, but still...  my brother-in-law preferred the shrimp, but even the non-crustacean-eaters (which was everyone else) seemed satisfied.  i daresay, a good time was had by all.

it wasn't until several hours later that we noticed a recent addition to maggie's vocabulary.  we were playing uno - she and i - and her mom was sitting near us.  i had just hit her with a couple of 'skips' and a 'draw four' when she let out an exasperated and unprecedented "awwwwww, dirty dick's!"  it pleased me that my sister was both as incredulous and amused as i; i seem to recall more stifled tittering - not from me, this time - as she explained to her daughter that certain expressions aren't always appropriate.

maggie began kindergarten a week ago today.  armed with this handy epithet and her teacher's first name - tracy, which she read from the letter that was sent by the school to her house - i am sure she's made quite the impression on the folks at starr elementary.  i can't recall when i have felt so proud.