Daddy recently read me a few Winnie the Pooh books. I was very excited for this book series because I have a lot of Winnie the Pooh clothing, toys, and games. In fact, if you had asked me six days ago who my hero was, and I could verbally respond, I would have indicated Pooh Bear, hands down. However, upon actual examination I have realized that the tales of Winnie the Pooh pale in comparison to the myth of Winnie the Pooh.
Let us start with Pooh himself. I was flabbergasted to learn that Winnie the Pooh is actually a stuff bear, owned by Christopher Robin, named Edward Bear. If we ignore the fact that A. A. Milne really missed an opportunity by not originally designating him “Theodore Bear” I think we can safely say that A. A. Milne is a liar. I was under the impression that I was going to meet Pooh at some point down the line. Now when I make my way to the Magic Kingdom I’m going to know that the giant yellow bear is an impostor of a fictional character.
Even if I can ignore the fact that Pooh Bear is a figment of Milne’s mind there are significant problems with the stories I have been read. For example, Pooh is often a single minded bear that can do little more than stuff his face full of honey. When he does pull himself out of his sugar induced comas Pooh as a character does not come off as the ideal friend he is often portray as being. Pooh lies to his friends when asked sincere questions and in an effort to bring legitimacy to his fabrications he will usually add, “Christopher Robin told me”.
Christopher Robin, who I am assuming is the only real thing in these books, seems somewhat full of himself. In one instance, he led everyone, including all of Rabbit’s friends and relations, on a quest to find the North Pole. Unfortunately he had no idea where the North Pole was or even what it was so he simply claimed to his crew that Pooh found it when they came across a pole in the woods. I for one would not want to be stumping through the woods with Christopher Robin as the sole keeper of legitimate knowledge.
While on the topic of knowledge I would like to point out the lazy editing of these stories. Certain words are plagued by frequent misspelling. Honey, for instance, is spelled “Huney” as frequently as it is spelled correctly. Capitalization runs afoul of standard grammar rules as well I’m afraid. Words are capitalized without reason, in the middle of sentences, at the end, and everywhere in between.
Perhaps the most disconcerting part of the entire experience of getting to know the actual tales of Winnie the Pooh is what comes after we finish each book. Daddy feels it necessary to impart what he felt the moral of each story was to me. So far they have included; “And that is why you must remember to eat before you leave the house”, “And that is why you must never climb trees without a spotter”, “And that is why it is rarely a good idea to approach a bee hive”, “And that is why we’ve largely abandoned balloon and zeppelin travel in favor of the energy intensive airplanes”, and my personal favorite, “And that is why an umbrella must never be used as a flotation device”.
He completely missed the actual moral of each individual story and the series as a whole. In fact, the moral of Winnie the Pooh is fairly simple. Real friends will always love you despite your flaws. I would also note, in light of this whole Edward Bear debacle, Milne seemed to have indicated that imagination can turn the mundane into the memorable. Maybe there is something worthy of continued exploration in the Winnie the Pooh series after all.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
Thoughts on Daddy 5
We are more than three quarters of the way through Daddy’s paternity leave and I have not had a decent story to write about in a long time. Since I was hoping to get CBS to purchase my musings like they did with a couple Twitter feeds last year I needed to start pulling strings in order to throw Daddy slightly off balance. When my best friend asked me to go to the Baby Gym I knew I had an opportunity to mess with my old man’s world.
In the time I’ve spent with my father I have notice a few things, he’s a horrible singer, he does not enjoying shaving, and he really likes to be on time. In fact, I would go as far as to say he has a fear of being late. All I had to do to get him off track was extend my nap before we left for the gym. Of course, I was not really sleeping, I was using my Daddy monitor to observe all the action.
We were supposed to leave at 10:15 and my plan was to “sleep” right until then. Once I “woke up” he would have to change me, dress me, feed me, and then pack us up to go. That would mean we could not leave until 10:40 at the earliest, which in turn would drive my father crazy.
At approximately 9:50 Daddy started to pace around the living room. Daddy even distractedly tripped over Benji when the dog wandered quietly into the room. I had been waking up from my morning napping at 9:30 like clockwork so he was concerned. By the time 10 AM rolled around the old man must have decided to wake me because he started to put a bottle together. But since my over nap tactic obviously made him frantic he put it together poorly and spilled the contents all over the kitchen! He had to clean that mess immediately so he was unable to resume waking me until 10:20!
Surprisingly, he was able to get everything done while feeding me, it was a tad uncomfortable, and got us out of the door at 10:40. I was able, however, to hack into Daddy’s google account and tweak the directions he printed before we left. Since his knowledge of the local roads is abysmal I was able to make him drive around in a five mile circle through town as he blindly followed my meandering directions.
Once he found his way out of town Daddy was able to follow the rest of the directions and get to the Baby Gym in short order. We got there only five minutes late which was kind of amazing considering all the obstacles I threw at the old man. Our arrival was somewhat awkward as ten women, twelve babies (two set of twins), and one male group leader, seated in a circle, all turned their heads simultaneously to look at my scruffy father and his delightful daughter.
Thankfully my girlfriend was easy to find so I directed Daddy to sit next to her. After that things got off to a really odd start as the leader directed the parents to sing “The Wheels on the Bus”. Normally my Daddy belts out the tunes but for some reason this time he quietly mumbled the words under his breath. Next he was instructed to stretch me out. I thought that was peculiar considering I am fairly spry as it is but the activity was surprisingly pleasant.
Next we were charged with flying in the superman position, Daddy held me in the air, while moving in a circular motion. While I can appreciate that Daddy was doing this for my benefit, I could not help but laugh at the whole experience, watching him run in a circle, while holding me, and trying not to step on all the cameras of the proud mothers that littered the floor of the little gym. He was an absolute clown. After that, they put us on a “parachute” but it looked more like a circular blanket to me.
It was there that I saw Bradly. He was a bit older, nine months, but I felt an instant connection. As we lay there on the parachute, I reached out for his big bald head and stroked him behind the ear. Daddy was a bit flummoxed by this and pulled my hand away. Undeterred, I reached again and this time accidentally stuck my finger up Bradly’s nose, my hand/eye coordination is still developing. Daddy then unfairly ripped me away from my love and plopped me down next to my girlfriend. Suddenly the chute began spinning on the floor and I grabbed my friends hand for balance but my heart was three spots over with Brad, who was now crying because he apparently got motion sick.
I attempted to make contact when we moved over to the balance beam but his twin sister, I forget her name so let’s just call her “Butt-head” jumped between me and my beloved. She wanted to know what the deal was between me and her brother but I explained, through pantomime, that she needed to mind her own business. By the time Daddy and I were rolling down the wedge shaped mat, this was a weird place, I knew I had lost my opportunity. Bradly was now fascinated by some 10 month old floozy who could crawl!
At least I could take solace in the bubbles that were blown around the room. I had never seen a bubble before, but I imagined that it is what a fart would look like if they were not invisible. Of course seeing a bubble pop for the first time was a bit shocking. I realized that bubbles were not like farts, they are like hearts, because the bursting bubbles were the perfect metaphor for how my heart felt. I just realized I might be a bit Emo. That is going to drive my Daddy crazy!
In the time I’ve spent with my father I have notice a few things, he’s a horrible singer, he does not enjoying shaving, and he really likes to be on time. In fact, I would go as far as to say he has a fear of being late. All I had to do to get him off track was extend my nap before we left for the gym. Of course, I was not really sleeping, I was using my Daddy monitor to observe all the action.
We were supposed to leave at 10:15 and my plan was to “sleep” right until then. Once I “woke up” he would have to change me, dress me, feed me, and then pack us up to go. That would mean we could not leave until 10:40 at the earliest, which in turn would drive my father crazy.
At approximately 9:50 Daddy started to pace around the living room. Daddy even distractedly tripped over Benji when the dog wandered quietly into the room. I had been waking up from my morning napping at 9:30 like clockwork so he was concerned. By the time 10 AM rolled around the old man must have decided to wake me because he started to put a bottle together. But since my over nap tactic obviously made him frantic he put it together poorly and spilled the contents all over the kitchen! He had to clean that mess immediately so he was unable to resume waking me until 10:20!
Surprisingly, he was able to get everything done while feeding me, it was a tad uncomfortable, and got us out of the door at 10:40. I was able, however, to hack into Daddy’s google account and tweak the directions he printed before we left. Since his knowledge of the local roads is abysmal I was able to make him drive around in a five mile circle through town as he blindly followed my meandering directions.
Once he found his way out of town Daddy was able to follow the rest of the directions and get to the Baby Gym in short order. We got there only five minutes late which was kind of amazing considering all the obstacles I threw at the old man. Our arrival was somewhat awkward as ten women, twelve babies (two set of twins), and one male group leader, seated in a circle, all turned their heads simultaneously to look at my scruffy father and his delightful daughter.
Thankfully my girlfriend was easy to find so I directed Daddy to sit next to her. After that things got off to a really odd start as the leader directed the parents to sing “The Wheels on the Bus”. Normally my Daddy belts out the tunes but for some reason this time he quietly mumbled the words under his breath. Next he was instructed to stretch me out. I thought that was peculiar considering I am fairly spry as it is but the activity was surprisingly pleasant.
Next we were charged with flying in the superman position, Daddy held me in the air, while moving in a circular motion. While I can appreciate that Daddy was doing this for my benefit, I could not help but laugh at the whole experience, watching him run in a circle, while holding me, and trying not to step on all the cameras of the proud mothers that littered the floor of the little gym. He was an absolute clown. After that, they put us on a “parachute” but it looked more like a circular blanket to me.
It was there that I saw Bradly. He was a bit older, nine months, but I felt an instant connection. As we lay there on the parachute, I reached out for his big bald head and stroked him behind the ear. Daddy was a bit flummoxed by this and pulled my hand away. Undeterred, I reached again and this time accidentally stuck my finger up Bradly’s nose, my hand/eye coordination is still developing. Daddy then unfairly ripped me away from my love and plopped me down next to my girlfriend. Suddenly the chute began spinning on the floor and I grabbed my friends hand for balance but my heart was three spots over with Brad, who was now crying because he apparently got motion sick.
I attempted to make contact when we moved over to the balance beam but his twin sister, I forget her name so let’s just call her “Butt-head” jumped between me and my beloved. She wanted to know what the deal was between me and her brother but I explained, through pantomime, that she needed to mind her own business. By the time Daddy and I were rolling down the wedge shaped mat, this was a weird place, I knew I had lost my opportunity. Bradly was now fascinated by some 10 month old floozy who could crawl!
At least I could take solace in the bubbles that were blown around the room. I had never seen a bubble before, but I imagined that it is what a fart would look like if they were not invisible. Of course seeing a bubble pop for the first time was a bit shocking. I realized that bubbles were not like farts, they are like hearts, because the bursting bubbles were the perfect metaphor for how my heart felt. I just realized I might be a bit Emo. That is going to drive my Daddy crazy!
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