Khair-less

My friend Khair is many things: a colleague, confidant, contrarian, and commentator on most things political, social, religious, and sports-related. But he’s also things non-alliterative. Khair’s a kind friend of my wife and kids. He helped Olivia get to her Girl Scout cookies sales goal by ordering an ungodly amount of Lemonades, and he spends most mornings reading Reed a book before I take him to preschool.

And so in a week, as he leaves for a new job in the big city, he’ll be another thing: missed.

Tribal Sentimentality

The music of A Tribe Called Quest provided the soundtrack of my high-school years. The group’s seminal album, The Low End Theory, was the first CD I ever owned; their songs dominated the mix tapes I made for my then-girlfriend-now-wife; and I watched their videos that I’d taped from Yo! MTV Raps so often that I wore out our family VCR. (Side note: I realize that Reed—and even Olivia—probably doesn’t know what a VCR is.) And so I was geeked to learn that a documentary on ATCQ had recently been released, and I have to say that it didn’t disappoint this lifelong fan.

I think a measure of a good movie is how much you’re thinking about it the next day. Well, this movie had me thinking about it a bunch three days after Beni and I watched it. In the spirit of The Source magazine, I give Beats, Rhymes & Life: The Travels of a Tribe Called Quest the coveted five mics rating.

People Who Live in Houses with Glasses

Hindsight is 20/20, but actual sight is not: As predicted here years ago, it was only a matter of time that this day would arrive. We just didn’t know her American Girl doll would face the same bespectacled fate. (Many thanks to Julie for picking up a pair.)

Hardscrabble

Do you know what’s more challenging than finding a high-scoring play when saddled with a vowel-laden rack? Answer: Trying to teach Scrabble to a class full of sugar-laden second graders.

I’d volunteered to teach mini-courses at Olivia’s school on the basics of the world’s best board game. In fact, many of the members of my family were involved with the mini-course event: Beni was a lead organizer, my mom taught a class on kamishibai (Japanese paper theater), and my dad helped my mom with her first lesson and tried his best to quell my combustible second lesson.

Having Olivia in my class was AWESOME (62 points), and my dad was HELPFUL (65 points), but the experience was a little too CHAOTIC (64 points) for my liking.

Scoop Du Jour

The awe with which Reed approaches a real-life machine is the same way we might approach an encounter with a celebrity. We happened to spot one this morning as we were leaving Target having just picked up a toy version. Look how happy he is—you couldn’t wipe that smile off his face with a powerful swoop of a digger’s scoop.

Do-Not-Disturb Sign

If you are ever at our house and espy our son hiding behind the double-hinged door of the lazy Susan or poking out of the doors to the food pantry, just know that he wants some privacy so that he can poop in peace.

Know Sweat

Olivia has a serious case of cabin fever. We were practicing soccer in the basement when she made a sudden burst for the stairs. Once in her room, she donned the outfit above. She then ran to the bathroom, splashed hot water on her face—sweat, she called it—and yelled out, “Workout!”

Icy Reception

We are a family of fat-straw drink enthusiasts. Here’s Reed sucking down his swush.

Bird's Eye View

“Killing two birds with one stone” is probably a phrase to avoid when talking about Winged Migration, a fascinating documentary about our avian friends, but I did just that tonight: I found a film that the kids and I could watch together, and it was one that I could legitimately count in my yearly tally.

A lazy person might call this movie “soaring,” and leave it at that. Here’s my review: This film soars above all other cameras-following-birds documentaries. What must have first seemed a flight of fancy when conceived, this film of fancy flights is a real feather in the cap of its producers.

Patriots Act

I’m expecting a bump in pageviews this week after this unexpected promo in the USA Today sports section. (Hat tip: the eagle-eyed Pat H.)

Cinderella Story

In Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture, Peggy Orenstein scares the bejesus out of this father of a young daughter with her extensive research into the potentially caustic messages marketers are pushing on girls Olivia’s age and even younger. Luckily for me, there are books like this that can help us parents counterbalance these influences on our daughters. And of further fortune for me, I have a daughter who has been giving a variation of the rant below for some time now.

Potty Animal

I don’t know if it’s all the books we have lying around the house that coax Reed to the potty, or if it’s the potty itself that motivates him to read, but I’m good either way. In fact, I’m happy to hoard up our house with books and potties if that helps boost the frequency of his reading and peeing.