I Am Your Father

So here I am, peacefully sitting in my room and hemming Jakes soccer uniform, when I hear "Surrender!" and Gus slides on his back through the door of my room. I could only see his head (the rest of him was still  in the hall). He lay there stunned for a second, launched himself up, and ran yelling out again. Also, "surrender" was said in the voice of Darth Vader. The kids got this big Darth Vader helmet at a garage sale this morning, and not only does it say things, heavy breathing and all, but it also transforms your voice so you can say whatever you want. Oh joy.

21!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TANYA!!!
If you know Tanya, wish her a happy 21st birthday today. I just realized I could do some serious damage on this blog. Hmmmm... I wonder who's secrets I should tell next?

Laughter is the Key to... Insanity?

I was in the archives at work a few minutes ago, and I made myself laugh. This was not a little laugh. This was a MONSTER laugh. The lights in the archives are supposedly movement sensitive and are meant to turn on when you walk under them, but that doesn't actually happen. So there I am in the archives, running up and down the pitch dark allies between the acid free boxes and waiving my arms around my head to activate the lights. Obviously this struck me as highly entertaining (you would have to be a stone not to be amused by this) and so I started laughing. Then I was running around in the stacks, waiving my arms around, AND laughing hysterically. I wonder if the archive walls are sound proof? I really hope so.

What Are All These People Doing Here? Why Don't They Just Go Home?

So I've decided that it is time to do a people study. This will be much like a child study. For those of you who are not part of the world of Waldorf, this is simply a very detailed look at a single child in a class. I have met some very interesting people, and you deserve to know them too. Let us start at home. My aunt Gabby is amazing. She can be crabby, but she is allowed because she is super mom. She has three boys who she manages to get out the door every morning, she makes massive quantities of excellent food, and she even has time to work out.  She is insanely skinny and endlessly energetic. She LOVES Project Run way. My uncle John is basically my mother in male form and with a greater appreciation of organized sports and weapons of mass destruction. This is not to say that mom doesn't appreciate team sports, but John takes it to the next level. He looks like my mother, he talks like my mother, and he shares her deep love for antiques and stain removal techniques. He is also a wonderful artist and can build almost anything. His kids have the most amazing halloween costumes. He goes to multiple kid sports every weekend, removes the stains from those sports, makes great food, works a long and dull job, and picks me up at all hours of the night when I'm done work at the restaurant. Basically, he rocks my socks. He also loves Project Runway. Then there are the kids. Jake is the oldest and just started the sixth grade. He is the moody one and the most dedicated to athletics. He hates doing his reading homework and he "plays" the trumpet. Gus is in 4th grade. He is a soccer goalie and every morning, 5 more foods disappear from his diet. The 2 things that he can always be counted upon to eat are pepper and pickles. He is like a rock. This kid falls off things and onto things constantly, and blood or no, he rises with a smile. And then there is Hans. He is the baby and just started first grade. He's like mini John, and he's a total momma's boy. He dances, sings, and laughs constantly and absolutely nothing can bring him down. He will eat any food, try any activity, and make friends with anyone. He loves Spongebob Squarepants and army history. There's a poster in his room (which is my room right now) entitled Armored Vehicles Past to Present. His favorite channel on TV is the military history channel. The best part about the kids is that they all have serious speech impediments, so understanding them is truly an art form. Jake is sick right now and refuses to use actual words, relying instead on a sort of pathetic grunting language, making him exponentially more challenging to comprehend.

And last but not least in the Abruzzi household is Symon, although he isn't actually an Abruzzi. Come to think of it, I have no idea what his last name is. I need to clear some things up about Symon. As I was originally writing this only for my mom and she already knew who he was, I didn't explain him. This has, I'm sure, resulted in many people wondering who this inappropriate young man discussing tits and nobs with Sarah is. This is Symon's second summer in the US teaching soccer to little kids. He's English, but he spends a few months a year traveling the US, teaching soccer, and staying with host families. The Abruzzis are his favorite. Except for Jake who drives him absolutely insane. And sorry all who have dirty minds, but despite the fact that he is young, mildly attractive, and has a cute British accent, we are not secretly and passionately in love.He says "nuffink" instead of "nothing," will not eat tofu, and apparently nowhere in the United States can you find "proper baked beans" whatever those are.

I'm running out of steam, but I'll do a quick Willow restaurant rundown. Kevin is the uptight but very sweet manager. Then there's the boss ladies husband who is massively fat and mean and loves to fire people. There are a plethora of totally pleasant blond waitresses as well as one extremely witchy one. There is a male waiter, Justin, who's in grad school for philosophy and who I help with his German homework. Peter. Peter is something else. He's completely obnoxious and know it all but in that way that you can't help but be amused by. Apparently he also snorts coke in the bathroom which would account for his manic behavior. The Hispanic guys are my favorites. Flafia is very sweet but has terrible English so I'm constantly trying to think up different ways of saying things to her. Richard is wonderful and makes racist jokes. Josue makes fun of me and carries dishes when they're too heavy for me. There are others, all wonderful and sweet and hard-working. None of them understand how it is that I could be a vegetarian as well as not speak ANY Spanish. Oh, I almost forgot Christopher. I think he's the head chef. He is buff and heavily tattooed and you can hear him swearing from all the way out on the patio. This evening, he chest-bumped me so hard the wind got knocked out of my lungs. And of course, the pastry chef, who I want to put in my pocket and take home with me to install in my kitchen.