Blocks, Bubbles, and Live Bands

I know moms everywhere wonder how their toddler can look like that up there one second, and that down there the next. I wonder that, too.

I don't know why he started playing inside the block bin. I would like to tell you that there is a perfectly rational explanation for it, but the best I can come up with is that he just really likes to immerse himself in his toy experiences. You know, become one with the toys, as it were. But that's not what this post is about.

I'm not sure what this post is about, actually, aside from me trying to bust through a little writer's block. So here are some thoughts I have about bubbles. I used to like bubbles, before I had children. Don't get me wrong, the kids look awfully cute blowing bubbles:

Look at his little eyes all crossed up -- adorable. Those two photos were taken about 20 seconds before I left the boys on the porch to go inside and figure out what gourmet delicacy I was going to make for dinner ("hmmm, rice from a pouch or potatoes from a box . . . which should it be, which, which, which?"). When I stepped back outside three minutes later Mace was soaked in bubble juice from head to toe and the table was covered as well.

My first issue with bubbles: it always ends in a mess. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking: "Do you seriously have such bad writer's block that all you can think of to write about is how bubbles are messy when by definition bubbles are, you know, clean?" Well, you try cleaning up an entire bottle of bubbles off your porch and then you can leave me a comment about how I'm right and you are so wrong.

Now when your toddler is covered from head to toe in bubbles, he naturally does only one thing -- rubs his eyes. Which leads to my second issue with bubbles: any bubble session ends with my toddler screaming bloody murder. Now if Johnson & Johnson can figure out how to make tear-free shampoo, why can't Magic Bubble figure out how to make tear-free bubbles? The conspicuous absence of tear-free bubbles from Wal-Mart leads me to assume that tear-free bubbles wouldn't actually make bubbles -- cause haven't you noticed that the tear-free shampoo doesn't really bubble up in the bathtub? And doesn't that make you think that maybe tear-free shampoo doesn't actually work? Seems like to really work, shampoo should lather up. When Joe is channeling Monty Python, he likes to say he doesn't want to use sham-poo, he wants to use real-poo. I have to agree with him. [And every time he cracks that joke, I laugh.]

But that's not what this post is about.

This post is about Alexis, one of my church friends who is a first-rate musician with a fantastic voice. And this is about Dez, sitting down behind Alexis in the striped shirt. Dez is also a first-rate musician with a fantastic voice. Alexis and Dez and several other of our church friends attended an event tonight where there was live music. Alexis and Dez really had it rough tonight, however, because the live music (using the term loosely as you'll discover) had actually lost half of their group (and apparently their instruments and mikes) the week before. Here's the band:

The guy with the drumsticks played a skateboard and a hubcap. I can't explain the guy dressed like a banana. But the band sure tried, didn't they Alexis? Didn't they Dez? They really, really tried. Bless their hearts.