Would That You Were So Famous

My dad wants to know if Kathryn ever runs out of words. The answer is no.

For the past two weeks, Kathryn has been in Texas, staying with my parents, and not running out of words. My mom loves it. My dad has duct-taped two pillows together and wears them as a hat. I can't blame him; two weeks is a awfully long time to experience raw Kathryn, a creature whose energy level is only exceeded by the volume of her normal speaking voice.

Every summer since we moved to New Jersey, Kathryn has spent a week or two back in Texas with my folks. I believe this arrangement was originally suggested by my wife as a way to get her hands on our expected inheritance a few years early, figuring that one week with Kathryn could shave up to six months off the rest of my parents' lives. A good plan to be sure, but I'll never see any returns from it as my exposure to Her Royal Webkinzness means I will be dead before I finish this post. Add in the twins and I actually died during childbirth. My own.

So for two weeks my oldest daughter and all her words have been holding high court in the wilds of Waxahachie, Texas, or as my sister-in-law called it once, the Hollywood of the Strip of Land Between Dallas and Waco. For a while Waxahachie looked like it was going to have a solid career in movies, with a few filmed there each year, even a couple of Oscar winners. Most of the films were period pieces, except for one when, for a few fun weeks, my family and I sat out on our back porch in the evenings and watched David Byrne film True Stories at the house across the creek.

None of my family ever made it into any of these movies, but that is not to say we all escaped the camera's loving eye. All four of us once appeared in a particularly delightful and lighthearted commercial for an industrial herbicide. The members of my family, along with three-quarters of the rest of the town, were each paid ten dollars to march through the town's square in a mock parade, singing the theme song of a chemical developed to keep grass from growing in lettuce patches. Again and again we marched, singing what might have been the only theme song ever written for a known carcinogen, and I'm not sure any of us were troubled by it. I know that I was not. Even if you had pulled me aside and described to me in detail the specific ecological effects of this particular product, I still would have sung along, because ten dollars could buy me THREE STAR WARS ACTION FIGURES, and I would have stepped over the bodies of thousands of dead song birds for Star Wars action figures.

My brother was featured in a close-up, the camera zooming in on him as he smiled a smile that told us the eradication of unwanted broadleaf grasses from our lettuce fields was the but first step in our American battle for dominance over all things natural, a fight that continues today. For this, he earned himself an extra $10 which I feel certain he blew all at once on a box of Verbatim floppy discs.

Not too much has been filmed in Waxahachie lately, and certainly nothing was filmed there in the past two weeks, for which I am relieved. Because if Kathryn had somehow made it in front of the camera, I know how she'd have spent her ten dollars.

And it wouldn't have been to buy herself any more words.

Comments

[Vikki]

"...a creature whose energy level is only exceeded by the volume of her normal speaking voice."

You could have written this about my son. It sounds like he and Kathryn might be soul mates. My friends watch my son, shake their heads and say, "These are qualities that will serve him well when he is an adult". I know they then say little prayers of thanks to the gods that they get to go home after an hour with us.

[Amber]

LOL!

when do they take the twins?

[You can call me, 'Sir']

Poisoning my yard seems so barbaric. Experience has taught me that the only sure method of victory over weeds comes through the merciless and sometimes reckless use of fire. I love my yard enough to burn it occasionally. That heartless bitch mother nature has done the job for me nicely this summer, though.

[Amy the Mom]

What cracks me up the most about this post is the mention (and thumbnail) of Verbatim floppy disks. Just yesterday, I was waxing nostalgic and sharing with my kids the antiquated storage methods of yesteryear. Their eyes were wide as they tried to comprehend monotone CRT monitors, and computers that cost more than nice used cars. Good times.

[Joy]

Wow. You come from one of those places where True Stories was filmed. And you have toddler twins and another child who never stops talking. And despite all that, you still manage to speak in complete sentences. Can I have some of whatever medication keeps you going?

[Tammy]

I heart floppy disks.

[Greatexpectations (GE)]

I just can't stop laughing about the commercial you marched in!!

Great post!

I, too, would like to know when your parents take the twins for two weeks.

[loren]

Mmmm... floppy disks. Delicious!

[The Mom]

I vote that my in-laws take the twins next year! I'll have to take an extra job to help pay for the airfare, but it will be worth it.

[Angela]

I feel your pain, or at least your father's pain....our children love the sound of their own voices. Frequently on long car trips we have to beg the children "please, Mommy and Daddy need a timeout, no one can ask questions or talk for the next 20 minutes" the silence is heavenly, however, the most we ever truly get is about 10 minutes relief. We are gluttons for punishment, we are planning a 12 hour car trip to NC in the spring, help!

[Burgh Baby's Mom]

This post? A perfect example of why I get all excited when you (finally) post something new. "Her Royal Webkinzness"--classic!

[mommy24x7]

Well, we certainly know what "Her Royal Webkinzness" would spend her ten dollars on, don't we? More Webkinz! Aaaauuggghh! Will it never end? And by the way, how come I didn't get to be in that commercial, or are you making this whole thing up?

[The Dad]

No, I'm not making this one up. Not sure how you avoided being in it, because I would swear that there was no one left in the town while it was being filmed. Perhaps, though, that is just my revisionist mind trying to make me feel less bad about selling out my young, liberal, environmentalist soul for a measly ten coins of silver.

[LIB]

I just have to sayy--I'm lovin' the banners. Every single one has made me smile!

[Kelly]

HA! I had to double-check that banner since it looked so familiar. It ought to! Ahh, my chunky, bendy boy. Surrounded by his (and his brothers) chaos of toys and blankets and diaper-cloths. :)

[Sue]

Kelly, your baby is freakishly flexible :-).
I'm loving the banners so much I'm really sorry I didn't submit a picture. TD, I hope you will hold another guest-banner month sometime soon.

[Kelly]

Sue, the odd thing is that the older one is a skinny mini and never managed to get his toes anywhere *near* his mouth. Chunky-Butt has the biggest thunder-thighs I've ever seen on a baby (his rolls have rolls have rolls) and he's basically Gumby.

I second Sue's hope that you do another round of banners (though appreciate how much time it must be taking you to do them and Thank You).

[Jordan]

Hilarious. My older son has the same talky-talk loudy-loud quality of your daughter. And dear God, our ears are ringing. How I would love for him to spend a couple weeks in someone else's house - his intensity might peel the wallpaper right off their walls, though.

Great post!

[Amy]

singing what might have been the only theme song ever written for a known carcinogen

Please! I've got a sleeping baby in the next room! How's it going to stay that way if I'm laughing and snorting water through my nose? (When will I learn: do not imbibe while reading Looky, Daddy. Imbibe afterwards, in a toast to the universe for graciously not granting me twins.)

I had such a loud voice when I was Kathryn's age (and younger) that my parents took me to get my hearing tested. I'm now a preacher. Hallelujah!

[Amnesiac sister-in-law]

"Hollywood of the Strip of Land Between Dallas and Waco"? Either my memory's going or there's another sister-in-law I don't know about who's better versed in Waxahachie film history. Should we perhaps be sending congratulations to The Other Uncle?

[Kay]

Dear Dad, please do tell how one goes about, logistically that is, unloading one or more children on grandparents. I.e, did you or The Mom fly there and drop Kathryn off, fly home, then have to go back for the pickup? Did one of the Grands come out to get her? Or did you actually send her alone with one of those flight attendant babysitters that cost extra?

Signed, curious mind of one who'd love to do the same next summer...