Le Petit Prince

Did I not tell you that his theme song was Princes of the Universe?



John would not be able to wear this sleeping outfit if he were not a prince. That would be false advertising.

Being the prince that he is, he sleeps quite well in his crib; however, there are times that he just feels the need to sleep in something that isn't quite as confining. Yes, he kicked us out of the bed this morning, so he could enjoy the size and comfort of a California King sized bed. He's the prince, how can we say no?



He may be small, but he has the style, charm, and charisma to carry it off, don't you think? Now that he's worn his jammies, I'll have to go dig up my copy of The Little Prince. It's in French, so we'll read it to him and always ask him questions, but remind him to answer "En Francais". He'll learn French, or he's going to turn into a sensitive song writer like Morrissey and go to Indiana to where James Dean was born and shoot a video for a song that has nothing to do with Indiana or James Dean. I'm good with either way.

Dancing King

John is going to have to learn to be a great dancer if he's going to be an escort at debutante balls when he's a little older. I'd say this is a pretty good start.

Well, he's far superior to Jean Claude Van Damme. He can't quite do the Van Damme split just yet, but we are working on his flexibility. One day, he'll win American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance. A couple of years later when his star begins to fade, he'll go on Dancing with the Stars and win that. John is like a force of nature. He can't be stopped. Some have called me a scary stage dad like that guy on American Idol, but I like to think of it as being proactively involved in the future success of my son.

Dr Doolittle or The Ghost Whisperer? You Decide

John has recently started to interact with things in his surroundings. It started the other day with his Gymini. Apparently, he started talking to all the little animals that hang from the arches. Here's a video of our boy interacting with the multi-colored monkey. For purposes of this post, let's call the monkey Koko.

If you ask me who he's talking to, I'd say it's ghosts. Any casual viewer of The Ghost Whisperer can tell you that children are more in tune with the spiritual world. I'm sure there have been many elderly tennants in our building that have passed away in the building. One paramedic once told us that there are two reasons that they get calls to Park La Brea: 1. Birth; and 2. Death. I'm sure John's talking to that ghost that I once saw hovering next to Maureen.

Big Sunday

Yesterday was Don Juan aka Papa Juan aka Pappi's birthday. He was born before the official start of World War II, but not by much. John decided that we had to go take a gift over to grandma and grandpa's house. Being the young charmer that he is, he even got grandma to give him some soda (don't worry. i wouldn't do that. i have already been warned not to give him ice cream. i think he'd like it, but i don't know if his delicate constitution could handle it). So he was quite excited to see Grammy and Grampy G.

Later in the afternoon, it was time to go to the Brady Manse on Citrus Avenue to have an early birthday celebration for Uncle Rick who's birthday is on th 19th. He was born toward the latter part of one of the more tumultuous decades of the last century. It was a time where hippies drove around in the VW vans, listened to the Beatles, stopped being nice, and started being real. Yes, he was born at the end of the Sixties. I cannot speak to those times since I wasn't around, but I'm told that the hippies back then smelled just as bad as the hippies do today.

John's cousin, Adriana, took this nice photo of Uncle Rick and John. The girl is going to turn 4 in November, but she's already sharp as a tack and a fairly good photographer. She was quite attentive to John during the party. She helped to feed him, push him on a swing, and change his diaper. Well, maybe she didn't help change the diaper, but she did offer to help. I think it was the little blob of yellow goodness in John's diaper that prevented her from helping. I don't blame her. I still get freaked out and pray that he doesn't have poop in his diaper when I go to change him.

Anwho, Adriana kept fawning all over John and telling him that she loves him. She's serving notice that she wants to be John's favorite cousin. The rest of you cousins need to step up your efforts to curry favor with John.

Like Grandfather, Like Grandson

I defy anyone who has ever seen Don Juan asleep in his chair to say that John doesn't look exactly like him in this photo. I always think of a parrot when I see their chins burried in their chests. I DARE YOU!!

Remember, if you disagree with me, I'm a world famous blogger (well, at least in my own mind) and I can get things up pretty quickly onto the internet.

John's Crib

I learned something about Russian orphanages yesterday. Apparently, there is no color in the nurserys. So, Grammy Brady was quite pleased when Maureen purchased this colorful mobile that plays music. He already had a really nice navy blue and white mobile with sailboats, but it didn't have color. Thanks Mother Brady for the tid bit becasue our baby is not a Russian orphan. She wouldn't tell me her source. I think she heard it on Coast to Coast AM with George Noory. When they aren't talking about aliens, shadow people, time travel, or other weird stuff, Art Bell used to talk about Russia. I miss Art Bell. He was soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo entertaining.

www.coasttocoastam.com

Sorry Maureen

The votes are in and the people have spoken. It looks like people want John to go to UCLA (50%). Apparently not enough of your friends have been reading this blog. Either that or they were offended by my comments about their university (LMU 35%). Oh well, I regret nothing I have written. I just speak my mind. The First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of American guarantees that right to me. God bless our Founding Fathers!!

It must be noted that we will not force John to go to UCLA (as much as I'd like him to go there). If he chooses to go to a very liberal Catholic university in Westchester, CA, his parents better win the lottery because it's not cheap. If he chooses to go to a super liberal public university in Westwood, CA, his parents' pocket book shouldn't take too much of a hit. Whatever he decides is fine with me...as long as he doesn't go to any school associated with the Church of Scientology or the business practices of L. Ron Hubbard.

John Goes Behind the Orange Curtain

Maureen decided to go to her favorite retailer today to buy some make-up and look at some clothes for the boy. Yes, she paid a visit to Neiman Marcus and purchased some make-up and an after baptism outfit for John. The outfit is a Florence Eiseman. Apparently, anyone who's in the know knows who Florence Eiseman is. I guess I'm not in the know because I was nonplussed and unmoved when she told me. She's quite excited with the prospect of changing him out of his baptismal gown and putting him in the blue romper by this Florence Eiseman. Oh well, I have been told: Happy Wife = Happy Life.



Then she goes on to tell me that she did all this at the Neiman Marcus on Fashion Island. That got my dander up. There's a Neiman Marcus not 10-minutes from our apartment on Wilshire. In this day and age when gas costs $4.05/gallon unleaded, I have asked her to refrain from doing that again. Sure, John likes the long car rides and it allows Maureen to get out and about after one month of not really leaving the apartment, but the cost of gas is just too crazy to drive down there for a shopping excursion at the moment. Enough of my frugal rantings. I'm beginning to sound like John Kobylt on KFI, more stimulating Talk Radio.

Notice how the boy smiles in both pictures. He does that for his mother on command, but it takes forever for him to smile at me. I think he inherited that from me. We both like to flash MAGNUM only when necessary...if you don't understand that, go rent Zoolander. It's 90-minutes of mindless fun and David Bowie has a great cameo.

It's Official

He has such a lovely head of hair. I can't wait to take him into Jerry's Barber Shop to show it off.

Tubby Time

If you listen closely, you'll hear Maureen make an interesting comment within the opening seconds of this clip. John relieved himself. Fortunately, the stream wasn't too strong. It was barely a trickle that resembled that of a broken down water fountain at a Catholic elementary school that's been in dire need of repairs for 20-years.

John is learning to enjoy his baths. If he ever plans to graduate from the Handsome Boy School of Modeling and join the likes of Hansel, Zoolander, Markus, or that black guy from the Unbreak My Heart Video (his name escapes me at the moment, but he was also in Britney Spears' Toxic video), he'll have to learn to enjoy his beauty treatments.

A funny thing (aside from his little trickle of pee) happened. Just as Maureen placed him in the water, John literally floated an air biscuit. He created a little stream of bubbles that reminded me of a really bad episode of Blind Date where the dates would end up in a jacuzzi at Splash on Third Street. It also reminded me of every single episode of that bad spanish knock off of blind date called Buscando Amor where they'd ALWAYS wind up in a jacuzzi at the Sportsman's Lodge in Studio City. He continued to toot to his hearts desire. When he's out of the water and releases a bottom burp, he ususally smiles. He's already on his way to being like 95% of the men in the world who enjoy a good fart joke.