Ooh that tickles

I was looking through a teacher magazine this morning that showcased ideas for the end of the school year. They suggested writing letters to next year's students and holding an awards assembly to pass out prizes and certificates. A few pages later was an idea that I had never heard before. The writer said to give each student a small beach ball along with a permanent marker. They were then instructed to "sign his classmates' balls." I'm sure it was supposed to be a completely innocent command but it made me laugh. If Liam ever comes home from school with the name Brandon scribbled on his testicles in black Sharpie there will definitely be some explaining to do.

Shopping with whores

This afternoon we went to Grand Prairie to get Ella and Liam's pictures taken together. It was a nice time and the photos turned out really well. (I mean we do have the cutest children ever. Sorry Brangelina.) Letty met us afterwards and we grabbed some coffee. As we were sitting at a table outside, Ella made her way to the large lion with the massive testicles that sits outside of Bergners. She's really into animals right now and constantly wants to read this book at home with pictures of various creatures. She even now knows the sounds they make. So she ran up to the lion and yelled "Roar!" What a scholar. But then everytime someone remotely walked in her direction she had to say it again and again for them to hear. The problem is that she can't quite pronounce the first "r" yet. To make a long story short, basically she was yelling the word "whore" to each passerby. They would first look at her quizzically and then look at me at which point I would have to explain what she was really saying before each person smiled and continued on their journey.

Natural disasters down south

So I only have about a week left of my maternity leave/spring break/taking afternoon naps on the couch. I made the mistake of heading into school to copy a few things to be sent home this week before I return. When I pulled up I immediately noticed the dreaded janitor's car in the parking lot. I quietly swiped my entrance card, slowly opened the door, and creeped down to my classroom. I even left the lights off to remain completely incognito. After finishing things up I threw on my coat, exited the classroom, and ran straight into my nemesis in the darkened hallway. It was kind of like breaking out of prison when you make all these elaborate, thought-out plans, only to run into the toughest guard right as you're ready to jump out the window. We exchanged a few pleasantries before she asked how the labor went. I knew that no matter how I answered this, it wouldn't turn out good. I filled her in to which she responded that it was the worst pain she's ever had to endure. In fact, she'd like to propose that every father should have to have his bottom lip stretched out and wrapped over the top of his head to provide a glimpse of what the birthing process is like. Then she moved on to her own childbirth experience. The pain, she said, was so intense that she felt (and I quote) "like her stuff down there was going to explode." And if I didn't fully understand the comment she made sure to use the index fingers from both hands to point to her crotch "down there." Even I was at a loss for words so I simply said "See you next Monday" and continued down the hall.

Spilled milk

Last night we went to the Chinese buffet for dinner. Midway through the meal I got up to get a refill on my chocolate milk (because everyone knows that nothing goes better with ginger beef than chocolate milk). As I pulled up the handle to get the milk to come out I heard something drop into the bottom of my glass. I couldn't see anything in it but it made me a little sick knowing there was something swimming in there. I just took it back to the table for the busboy to pick up on his rounds. I headed back up, grabbed a fresh glass, and tried again. As the milk neared the top of my glass I pushed the lever back into place. Yet instead of returning to its original position it broke off in my hand. Chocolate milk started spilling everywhere. An Asian woman dining a few feet away started yelling at me in her native tongue as though I wasn't aware there was a problem. What did she expect me to do? Wrap my mouth around it and start suckling it like a cow's teat? I was standing there pinching it closed when the aforementioned busboy came to help me out. I handed over the udder and figured he could work it out. I watched him search frantically for a missing piece when it dawned on me that maybe that was what fell in my glass. I wiggled my fingers to the bottom and discovered the missing bolt. I ran it up to him and he said "Oi kahn chi," which I'm going to take as something of a thank you.

The arrival

This is such a special blog posting that I feel like there should be confetti and a clown making balloon animals. It's very exciting to announce that Rachel and I are parents again. Liam McCartney Ritchason was born on March 20 at 11:32 a.m. (exactly one minute later than Ella). He weighed 7 pounds, 8 ounces and was 19 ½" long. Basically he has long bird-like legs like his father and is destined for a life of looking anorexic and avoiding shorts each summer. Anyway, it's a thrilling time at our house.

The delivery actually went rather quickly. Rach started to feel some discomfort and called for the nurse to come check her. She took a look and ran out the door. In just a matter of minutes it became like a set change to a Broadway show. People were coming in as others were exiting, carts were being wheeled in, instruments were on hand, and the spotlights were switched on. Rachel did great with the exception of her spitting in my face at one point, but she apologized mid-push.

There's two things I'm really tired of hearing. First, people saying "Well that's an interesting name." That's actually quite ironic when you hear it coming from a nurse named Cassany. Even my brother-in-law Andy had to give us a hard time about naming him after a celebrity. This coming from a guy who named his youngest son Clay Beckham King. I told him at least we chose a famous Brit that has some actual talent, unlike a guy who simply plays soccer in between injuries. Secondly, no we did not steal the name from Tori Spelling. If anything it's the other way around. I let the name slip when I bought a George Foreman grill from her yard sale two months ago.

While at the hospital there were a few things that made me chuckle. One of the doctors came in and said "Congratulations. Now you have a hunting buddy." Obviously we had never met before. Me hunting is about as likely as me ever watching another Lindsay Lohan movie. It's not gonna happen. I think Liam's more of a "lay on the couch watching Idol" buddy. Another time the lactation nurse came in to give Rachel a refresher course on how to breastfeed. She said Liam needed a little suck training. I think suck training is how Rachel and I got into this predicament to begin with. People think that having long legs is a blessing. Sure you can hang stuff up high or easily reach the top shelf, but it also has its disadvantages. The first night in the hospital I was sleeping soundly on a rickety five foot rollaway bed when the nurse brought Liam back in his crib and ran right into my ankles hanging off the bed. It was kind of like that scene in Misery where psycho Annie Wilkes smashes James Caan's ankles with a sledgehammer.

Finally, there's nothing like being at the hospital with Rachel's dad. It's actually like being out on the town with Paris Hilton, except a lot less skanky and without the extensions. Everyone knows him from the nurses to the chaplain to the crazy guys trying to find the mental ward. The best part of it is that he only ever recognizes about 1 out of every 10 people. The rest of them he fakes it by saying "Hey guy" or "Good to see you." After walking away and asking him who that was, he simply states "Oh, I have no idea." Classic.

Cleanup of dirty secrets in aisle 10

Ella and I ventured back to Wal-Mart this morning and it is apparent that I could write a book just about my adventures at the supercenter. We picked up a few assorted items and headed to the checkout. I took everything out of the cart and the woman began scanning each of them. Here's how the rest of the exchange went down. The cashier's words are legit but mine have been made up for dramatic/comedic effect. Basically I didn't have the balls to really say anything and just responded with "uh huh."

Her: You gonna pay for that? (pointing to the donut sack that Ella was holding)
Me: Oh I'm sorry. I forgot she had that. (handing over aforementioned donut sack)
Her: You weren't trying to steal that were you?
Me: Well times are tough but I think I can afford the 45 cent donut (followed by a lame chuckle).
Her: Ya you don't wanna get caught shoplifting. Trust me.
Me: Thanks for the advice.
Her: I once shoplifted a digital camera from K's Merchandise, but they caught me in the parking lot.
Me: Better luck next time.
Her: I had to stay in jail for 60 days. They're not nice to you in jail.
Me: Ya I've seen Ernest Goes To Jail and it was brutal.
Her: Luckily my mom and dad got me out.
Me: Wow, they must really love you to keep you locked up for two months.
Her: (smoky laugh) Here's your receipt. Have a nice day.
Me: You too sticky fingers.

More disgusting than a can of Pringles

So I was in the office making copies this afternoon when I heard the faint sound of my friend the janitor. She was telling the assistant superintendent's wife of all people that she suffers from irritable bowel syndrome. As if that wasn't enough she added that she "can't even eat a potato chip without taking a sh*t." I started giggling so hard to myself that I almost did the same in my pants.

Foul mouthed nine year olds

I was grading some papers this afternoon when I stopped dead in my tracks. A student had written her explanation for an estimation problem with what looked like an inappropriate four-letter word. I think she meant "took" but it came out as something else. Look at the second word she wrote and judge for yourself.

Pucker up

So I took another Star Student out for lunch today. When will I learn? On the way to eat she motormouthed her way through a variety of topics (her old school, school lunches, her sister in junior high, American Idol). She stated that it was her mom's boyfriend's birthday this weekend. Making small talk, I asked if they had bought him anything yet. They hadn't but had been looking at some Packers sweatshirts. The girl added that her suggestion was to get him a tattoo. She went on saying that her mom had a couple of tattoos, a palm tree on her ankle, a rose on her back, and (drum roll please) bright red lips near her privates. Well won't that make parent/teacher conferences on Thursday a lot more interesting.

Oscar outlook

The Oscars are this weekend and it's probably going to be a ho-hum show. Most of the races have been wrapped up for months, so I'd be delighted if there was an upset somewhere. Of course the Academy really lost some credibility when they denied a Best Picture nod to Larry the Cable Guy: Health Inspector. Here's my picks for the big show on Sunday night:

Best Picture
Babel
The Departed
Letters From Iwo Jima
Little Miss Sunshine
The Queen

Should Win: Babel
Will Win: Little Miss Sunshine

Basically this comes down to a three-way race between Babel, The Departed, and Little Miss Sunshine. Babel's multi-layered tale of intersecting lives looks to be a distant cousin of last year's Best Picture winner Crash which could be a good omen. The Departed is quite simply a popcorn movie that doesn't have the clout to be a Best Picture champ. Little Miss Sunshine has become the little movie that could. Hordes of Academy voters love it and it will probably walk away with the night's biggest prize.

Best Actor
Leonardo DiCaprio (Blood Diamond)
Ryan Gosling (Half Nelson)
Peter O'Toole (Venus)
Will Smith (The Pursuit of Happyness)
Forest Whitaker (The Last King of Scotland)

Should Win: Ryan Gosling
Will Win: Forest Whitaker

Forest Whitaker has become the Philip Seymour Hoffman of this awards season. He's swept every other award in the galaxy and should easily wrap up the Oscar. The only potential spoiler could be Peter O'Toole. With eight nominations and no wins he could be the sentimental favorite. But this year sentiment won't win over Whitaker's unforgettable performance.

Best Actress
Penelope Cruz (Volver)
Judi Dench (Notes on a Scandal)
Helen Mirren (The Queen)
Meryl Streep (The Devil Wears Prada)
Kate Winslet (Little Children)

Should Win: Helen Mirren
Will Win: Helen Mirren

I would be thrilled if Kate Winslet won after five nominations. However, this is Mirren's year to reign supreme. Already Dench has announced that she's staying home in London. The other nominees would be smart to follow suit watching the show from home in their pajamas and chowing down on Chinese take-out.

Best Supporting Actor
Alan Arkin (Little Miss Sunshine)
Jackie Earle Haley (Little Children)
Djimon Hounsou (Blood Diamond)
Eddie Murphy (Dreamgirls)
Mark Wahlberg (The Departed)

Should Win: Mark Wahlberg
Will Win: Eddie Murphy

This is the truly wide open race of the night. Murphy has the edge going in, but remains to be seem if Norbit works in his favor or not. On one hand, it shows his flexibility as an actor. On the other, it could give voters the impression that his nominated performance is just a one-off fluke. That could allow Arkin (with his first nomination since 1969) or even Wahlberg to slide in for the win.

Best Supporting Actress
Adriana Barraza (Babel)
Cate Blanchett (Notes on a Scandal)
Abigail Breslin (Little Miss Sunshine)
Jennifer Hudson (Dreamgirls)
Rinko Kikuchi (Babel)

Should Win: Jennifer Hudson
Will Win: Jennifer Hudson

And I am telling you that there is no way that Jennifer Hudson will leave the Kodak Theatre empty-handed. She's a shoo-in for a performance that some critics have boldly called one of the greatest film debuts ever. Not bad for a seventh place Idol contestant. Somewhere Jasmine Trias is yelling at her agent. Plus, I saw enough of Kikuchi's vagina in Babel to never want to see her anywhere ever again.

Best Director
Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (Babel)
Martin Scorsese (The Departed)
Clint Eastwood (Letters From Iwo Jima)
Stephen Frears (The Queen)
Paul Greengrass (United 93)

Should Win: Martin Scorsese
Will Win: Martin Scorsese

If Scorsese doesn't win this year on his eighth nomination he should just pack it in. After being snubbed for classics like Raging Bull and Goodfellas, he's overdue and the Academy will right its wrong once and for all.