They had him at last. Years and years of long, strenuous surveillance and hard work finally found its prize. And there he was, cuffed and turned so he was viewed in profile. His good side. There was something about him that demanded… not respect, but something similar. It demanded that you reached out your fingers and tickled him. Or told him a clever joke to try and get those mischievous beady eyes to glimmer.
Even the fellow taking his picture had to resist the urge to tackle him to the ground and give him a good wet willy. The chains at his feet clung to his ankles as he turned to face the camera for a frontal shot. “Stripes aren’t my style, eh?” he murmured to the photographer, chuckling slightly at his own lack of creativity. The photographer eyed him without a change in expression, still wondering how unprofessional it would be to start a tickle fight with the inmate. Deciding it wouldn’t bode well with the boss, he concentrated on taking the mug shot. “So, uh, what’re you in for?” he asked, trying to sound casual. SNAP. He took another picture. Blinking the dizziness out of his eyes, the inmate was thoughtful for a moment. “It’s a long story son. I’d tell you I’m innocent, but look at me—we both know what I am. There is no denying it. I’m as guilty as the day I was hatched! I… I…. I’M A QUACK DEALER!” and with that the inmate let out one loud, enormous quack. Immediately doors swung open and dozens of officers and guards flooded into the room.
Feathers flew up in the air as the duck was tackled to the ground. One officer jumped onto the photographer and slammed him to the floor. “Don’t worry, you’ll be alright!” he yelled over the quacks now resonating through the small room. QUACK QUACK QUACK. The duck was in a frenzy! The officers, finally pinning him down, looked like they had just had the pillow fight of their lives. “What are we gonna do?! This quack dealer is out of control,” shouted one young officer, clearly a rookie. “Wait!” the photographer cried. “I know what to do.” Everyone stared at him, even the duck, although he continued quacking ridiculously loud. The photographer rolled the slightly overweight cop off of himself and stood up, cracking his fingers menacingly at the duck. “Time to break out the fluffy fingers,” he murmured under his breath, his eyebrows arching with excitement. Secretly, he was ecstatic that he now had a valid excuse to tickle the duck. The other officers looked on in envy as he got ready to unleash his fingers. Who could resist tickling a cute little duck after all? The photographer began gently and then went into a full assault, causing the duck’s quacks to sputter and transform into laughs of glee. Suddenly, all the officers forgot their roles of honor and civic duty and began tickling the duck as well.
As the laughter subsided, they all lay there smiling and content. The duck let out a few chuckles every few seconds, but no quacks came out of his beak. Then the dean of the prison walked through the half-open door to see the scene of feathers and officers sprawled out on the floor. In horror, he pointed dramatically at the grinning duck and shouted, “Duck, you’ve dealt your last quack!!”
I sent out thank you postcards for Finn's mustache birthday party (even though we said no gifts, thanks to those who did, so sweet of you!) and to make them a little more personal I took photos of him playing with each toy he received. Just printed on some card stock on our computer and then on the back I wrote out a message and put the address and stamp. He didn't really want to smile in any of the pictures though - he has a really hard time doing anything but trying to eat rocks when we go outside. :)
P.S. If anyone reading this gave him a toy camera, let me know. Funnily enough, not one gift he received had a tag on it, so I'm trying to track you down, gift-giver!
at 9:02 PM
Finn is ONE! Like, officially mama's-weeping-in-the-corner-and-silently-sobbing one. And what new things come with being a big-boy one year old? Well let me tell you:
- He is almost to the point of mastering throwing tantrums. He's just not quite there though. By that I mean that when he throws a tantrum I just crack up laughing at him because it's cute. Annnd I'm sure that will last another day or two.
- He is super clingy to me, which I kind of love because my non-huggy baby is suddenly a cuddle bug now.
- He is eating 100% table foods, mostly consisting of yogurt, berries, cheesy eggs, cheese sticks, cheese crackers, peas, mac & cheese, and lots of pasta.
- We just had his one year check-up and he is the 50th percentile for height and 10th for weight. My little boy is a whopping 20 lbs exactly.
- His red hair is growing out!! We are so sad about this (cue me sobbing in the corner again) but the hair coming in underneath is a lovely golden blond. So he'll still be a heart throb and I'm sure he'll have a red beard like his papa. See how I'm consoling myself here?
- He has had a total of 7 hair cuts since birth, his last being a fantastic bowl cut, due to him screaming uncontrollably every time the scissors came near him.
- We are realizing more and more what a performer and a charmer he is. He will stop at nothing until he gets any human in a 20 yard radius to smile at him. And when he has more than one person watching, he runs around like a giggling maniac.
- He finally learned to clap and give high fives! But he's not very generous with them. He'd rather run up to you and dangle his fingers JUST over your hand and then run away laughing, hoping you'll chase him down for a proper high five.
I'm sure I could go on and on... I'm trying to blog more often so that I don't forget the sweet/funny/crazy things he does all the time. He makes life so fun and - even though he's such a handful - surprisingly easy.
And also, I feel bad adding this in at the end, but the Chaser had his birthday a couple of weeks ago! He is 26 now! An old man. Finn and I surprised him at work the day before his birthday with a candy bouquet and a plate of cookies - complete with a Ron Swanson card and Tom Haveford's head saying "TREAT YO' SELF!" Because that's just what you gotta do.
Happy Birthday Chase! You are such a perfect husband and father - you make Finn and I want to be better each and every day. Love you!
at 8:53 PM