My son has a blinkin’ problem

QUICKIE: Today Vincenzo stuck a mini muffin on each of his eyes and yelled in a panicky voice, “I CAN’T BLINK!  I CAN’T BLINK!”


Vincenzo and I spent the weekend at my brother’s house in Silverdale celebrating Whaling Days.  Why whales?  Why not!  There were fireworks last night, a race this morning, and a never-ending parade in the afternoon.  The parade was waaaaayy better than the 4th of July one I went to (read description here).  It had huge, whale-shaped balloons and giant Mickey Mouses riding Harleys.  Pirate ships, crepe-paper floats, and more tiaras than I knew were in production.  And there was this one lady walking down the parade with her shorts zipper all the way down, revealing her rainbow-striped undies!  Oh-yeah-that-was-me.  [Fortunately, someone jumped out of her chair to tell me, and I managed to zip up just as I walked in front of the judges’ table.  Prize, please!]


Vincenzo ran a 25-yard-dash this morning and came in one place before dead last.  He was so excited that he WON!  Let’s just hope he has the endurance for distance running.  He spent the rest of the weekend wearing a helmet, creating a compulsion in me to explain to every other adult that he doesn’t need a helmet; he’s just choosing to wear one.  They offered me patronizing “Uh-huh”s.  It didn’t help Vincenzo’s image that he kept telling everyone his name was Abbey and he was 16 years old.  It also didn’t help that he’s developed a blinking problem lately where he can only do these hard, whole-face blinks instead of normal ones.  But who cares about image when you just “WON” your first 25-yard-dash?!


On the ride home, I noticed in my US magazine that Ingo Rademacher (who?) named his son Peanut Kai, explaining, “It puts a smile on everyone’s face.”  I know one person who will NOT be smiling, and his name happens to be PEANUT KAI.  I so hope he’s a big, Harley-riding dude.  I also hope he changes his name before his wedding day so no one has to witness the union of Peanut and Butter or whatever other unfortunately named bride he’ll be able to snag.


Just as I finished the article, my mom handed me a newspaper article that got even crazier.  Some judge made a girl a ward of the court so that her name could be changed.  I can’t blame him.  Her name was Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii.  I am SO not making this up.  He also cited a list of unfortunate names, rejecting Fish and Chips; Yeah Detroit; and Sex Fruit.  But he allowed Number 16 Bus Shelter and Violence, for obvious reasons.  It’s enough to make anyone change their name to Peanut.


Please feel free to come up with all the Peanut name jokes you can in the comments section.  Cashew later!



Teriyaki Madness (the madness is right there in the name!)

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