Spike Scott

September 2010
S	M	T	W	T	F	S
« Aug
	1	2	3	4
5	6	7	8	9	10	11
12	13	14	15	16	17	18
19	20	21	22	23	24	25
26	27	28	29	30

Cold, White, BLISS

Posted on August 29th, 2010 by Spike.
Categories: 3 yrs.

He be his mother’s son. This also harkens close to Daddy’s Colorado heart. Our eldest boy can NOT get enough of the snow.

All snow is good snow. Right? You betcha!

Lake Mountain is just a little over an hour outside of the city centre and the snowfall has been gorgeous. Melbourne has had an extended, cold, ski season this year (due to Global Warming, The Ozone Layer, Barack Obama and/or Our Own Hung Parliament) so we traipsed up the mountain for a frolic or two. Praps, three. Ten. Ten frolics, tops. Plus a whizzy. Ya gotta have a whizzy!

Spike hit the slopes, grabbed a handful of snow and piffed the biggest snowball he could manage. Morrison looked on with suspicion… suspicion bordering on contempt. He would not be having any of this ’snow’ carry on. Just direct him to the chips and he’ll forget this whole incident ever happened.

Spike on the other hand threw himself on a sled (Daddy “it’s not a toboggan, a toboggan is at least a metre long and blah blah blah [insert actual snow talk]“) and whizzed up and down the mountain (Daddy – “It’s not a mountain. It’s a hill if anything. Mountains are X metres high and have altitude [insert more hillist comments]“) at great speeds without regard for anyone’s safety, least of all his own.

He was retrieved from a spectacular spill off the sled (with his brother which only cemented Mo’s deep hatred of all things snow), from between the legs of other people and on one spectacular ‘final’ backward run – from underneath a snow making machine. Each time, with a bigger grin on his face.

Frozen toes nonwithstanding he is ready to go back to the snow, every second of the day. He knows where his gloves are and he’s pretty sure Mo Mo will like it more, this time.

Way to be optimistic Spike!

Spike’s Frozen Mother xoxo

3 comments.

The Gene Has Been Triggered

Posted on June 11th, 2010 by Spike.
Categories: 3 yrs, Uncategorized.

Which one?

The What Ever You Say, Adding The Words Poo or Bum Makes It The Funniest Thing – Ever! a locatable region of genomic sequence, corresponding to a unit of inheritance. I blame his father’s side of the family. My side is more about Falling Over Is Hilarious! (because it is). Needless to say, the overnight triggerable onslaught of the poo related answers to benign questions has struck this house, with full force.

Literally, an overnight thing. Monday morning he woke up and when asked what he’d like for breakfast, he considered his options carefully, looked up with those big green eyes and said matter-of-factly, “A poo sandwich, please.” Then dissolved into a pool of maniacal giggling. “Ah yes, a poo sandwich. Anything else to go with that?”
“You’ve got poo in your hair.” [insert more mania]

I was a…. what’s the opposite of proud?

So, we’ve been playing the “what’s for lunch? is it poo?!” game for a few weeks now. Until this conversation transpired.

Me: What do you want for lunch, Spike?
Spike: [careful consideration - it's all in the timing"] A poo sandwich! Bwahahahahaha!
M.: Ok, then!

Preparation of a braised steak sandwich, something he’s had before.

M: There you go buddy, a poo sandwich!
S: [long smileless inspection. a slight retch] I don’t like it.
M: A poo sandwich? How can you not like a poo sandwich!?
S: I just don’t. No [dry retch] no! I don’t like it!

Even after being assured it wasn’t realllly a poo sanga he wouldn’t touch it. And he did dry retch quite a bit. Especially when it became apparent Mo, DOES like a poo foccacia. I will say, this incident hasn’t stemmed the poo sandwich tide but it is now followed by, “not really, Mo will have it!”

Is IS all about the comedy in this house and as you can see, his delivery will take some perfecting.

Til then, we fervently hope you all have poo in your hair! bwahahahahahahaha

Spike’s Equally Hilarious Mother xo

3 comments.

Out Of The Mouths Of…

Posted on May 13th, 2010 by Spike.
Categories: 3 yrs, Uncategorized.

Playing with his train set – THIS conversation began.

Spike: “I was born in the street.”

Me: “Were you?”

S: “Yes, then I went to the Doptar, I was very sticky. Then she put me in the bed and I spewed and I spewed but then I was alright.”

M: “Wow.”

S: “I know!”

And we thought that whole, “where do babies come from” thing was going to be awkward.

Spike’s Informed Mother xo

0 comments.