Boyscout Badgering, Birthday Brainstorming and Baby Babbling

Yesterday evening, we juiced the boys up on ice cream and took them to the park.  While there, a troupe of boy scouts went thundering past the playground to an open field. Ian dashed after them and stood at the edge of the field.  The boy scout leader saw him and, in my best estimate, figured he was going to cleverly "scare" him off. Mr. Boy Scout launched into some loud monologue in a voice I can only describe as an even more annoying Bobcat Goldthwait. It was something like, "Hey little boy!...[blah blah blah]...Do you want to be a boyscout?!...."  Instead of its intended effect, Ian arched his back, threw back his head and erupted in maniacal laughter. The troupe went chaotic with it's own amusement. Ian - 1, Mr. Boy Scout - 0.

After the park, we enjoyed a spontaneous play date...at Kroger. We ran into a friend and her kids, and the whole gang of kids, ages 20 mos, 3, 4, and 6 (I think) zoomed off to besiege the grocery store.  I guarded the carts while Brian and the other mom dashed off in pursuit.  They forgot their nets and manacles, but eventually reclaimed our progeny.  We adults squeaked in a brief chat before the clan escaped again.  It had to be great marketing for the bakery treats on the tables they were crazily circumnavigating:  Buy these and your kids can be just like this!

We finally parted ways and otherwise left the store fairly victorious.  For his upcoming birthday, Ian requested a cake with a house and snow.  My best idea for tackling that was to find a gingerbread house kit to use for a cake topper.  Fortunately, Kroger had one, so I'll be tackling that this week.  They didn't, however, have any gingerbread man cookie cutters.  They had lots of gingerbread man cookies, but my masochistic self decided it would be a deeper expression of my love to make the little cookie men that will frolic in the sugary snowdrifts.  But, I may reconsider the bagged ginger men since he won't fully appreciate the effort until about his 32nd birthday...maybe.

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Isaac does everything about as cutely as I can imagine it being done. Right now he's fascinated with eyes. When I put on my "ga-giz" [glasses] in the morning, he slips a finger behind them and declares, "Eye!" and then points out all the other eyes present in the room. Then he gently raps on my glasses with his fist, saying "knock knock" and lets me know it's time to "eat!" The way he requests his waffle (wah-wul) sounds like he's prodding me to rock 'n roll.  He waits patiently as I dance, then leads me by the finger to the freezer. Ian walks by with a drink and Isaac makes the "share" sign and requests "chare meeeeeeee", holding out the "me" while his sweet voice slides into an increasingly higher pitch. Depending on what room we're in, "boo bus" either means he wants to ride his school bus or he wants his tooth brush (with "boo pase" on it, of course).  He's a little flirt and a cuddly cuddler, and I just want to squeeze him!