Pink Prickly Pear

Resolutions...

I don't make a list or anything, but I suppose I do make a few half-assed promises this time of year.

In 2009, I'd like to explore San Diego more.

So today, we went down to Balboa Park to check out Free Tuesday at the Science Center.  Uh...my quick review?

It's kind of smallish, but there appear to be a lot of neat looking interactive stations for the kids to explore.
The bathrooms smelled reassuringly of bleach and the soap dispensers were at least half full.
Don't go on Free Tuesdays because there will always be someone else's kid grabbing everything and mucking up your experiment.  And where is someone else? 

I don't like great unwashed crowds.  Mini-pear doesn't like loud.  D-anjou was over-stimulated - just the way he likes it.  We left after about 45 minutes.

excessive celebration

At happy hour this weekend, I happened to have one eye on the game.  I'm no football fan, but I like big butts and I cannot lie...

So, I'll admit, I was halfway paying attention to the men in tights.  Suddenly...

Triple P:  That man is riding his team mate like a pony in the end zone!!

Mr. Pear [glancing up at screen]:  Oh yeah.  Excessive celebration.

Triple P:  Huh?

Mr. Pear:  Excessive celebration.  Yep.  See - the ref is calling it.  They're getting a penalty.  15 yards.

Triple P:  For riding a man like a pony?!?!?

Mr. Pear explained (briefly, because he's not particularly a fan of the game either) the history of excessive celebration and the banning thereof.  Makes me sad.  What's not to like about a bunch of grown men riding each other like ponies and, in general, reveling in their big score in the football game?  Besides, celebratory acts, excessive or otherwise, are so subjective.  For those of us not actually interested in the actual game, it's one of football's saving graces.  I'll take a 350 lb. man's funky chicken over some choreographed cheerleader routine any day of the week!  

My anaconda don't. want. none. unless you got buns hon.

(Are you going to be singing that all night now?  I've found it both amuses and soothes the boy.)

So ladies (yeah), Ladies (yeah)
Do you wanna roll in my Mercedes (yeah)
Then turn around
Stick it out
Even white boys got to shout
Baby got back

Conversation

Mr. Pear:  I can't believe I'm folding your 30 year old t-shirt.

Triple P mutters something along the lines of shut up, blow me, or grrrrrr...

Mr. Pear: It's not just a 30 year old t-shirt.  It's a 30 year old t-shirt that's been in your rotation for 30 years.

He's just mad because he gave away his BMX shirts.