Monday, October 23, 2006

Mr. Incredible 5.2 And That Hippie Chick

I've been asked to clearly explain that what you see in the photo is not Gloria's real hair.

One of Eli 5.2's friends had a birthday/Halloween party Saturday night. Eli's been looking forward to breaking out his Mr. Incredible Halloween costume, and Gloria's always secretly wanted to be a 70's hippie chick, so a good time was had by all.

And no, Eli's weight hasn't doubled in the last month. That's muscular padding for the Mr. Incredible costume that somehow looks like extra servings of mashed potatoes instead. He's still entirely scrawny.

Eli's at the age where he sometimes says things that sound like he's being a smartass, but he's actually being sincere. He just hasn't learned the fine art of sugarcoating yet.

Earlier this week, Gloria made some broccoli for Eli for dinner, but she tried to disguise it by melting a little cheese on the top.

This had no chance of getting past The Inspector.

"Mom, what is this?" he asked.

"It's broccoli with melted cheese on it," Gloria said. "It's your favorite kind of cheese."

"I don't want it," he said. "I like cheese on its own."

"Eli, you need to at least try it," Gloria said. "I spent extra time making that for you."

"Well, that wasn't very smart," he said, and I had to bite my lip to stop me from bursting out laughing, because it's exactly what I was thinking.

Gloria didn't even try to bite her lip. She just laughed.

"Well, try smelling it," she said. "It smells delicious."

"I did!" he said. "I smelled it. Turn on the fan!"

On a related note, I always thought that there might be something horribly wrong with broccoli, because when it decomposes it smells like nothing so much as death.

This weekend, I took Eli out for breakfast at The Original Pancake House, where we've eaten almost every Sunday for over two years. While we were there, we saw a woman walk by holding a baby.

"I'm allergic to babies," Eli said.

"Allergic?" I asked.

"Well, they don't really make me sneeze, but I don't like looking at their butts."

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