Grumpy Naked Guy

Grumpy Naked Guy lives in a corner of the Hirshhorn Museum in Downtown D.C.

Piper may be his biggest fan.

She does wonder sometimes why he’s so darn grumpy. That he’s enormous and nude doesn’t phase a Piper at all.

“Why’s Grumpy Naked Guy so grumpy?” Piper asked.

“Maybe because he forgot his underwear?” Daddy suggested.

“Nah. That’s not it.”

“Maybe he’s cold?” I said.

“Nope. Naked isn’t so cold.” Piper does speak from experience.

She studied Grumpy Naked Guy some more. You really can’t help but stare. Especially in certain parts.

“Maybe he just doesn’t like modern art,” Piper finally concluded.

Letter to a Commenter

Piper’s playmate, funny guy John Clark, is sharing his private letters with the world, including this letter he wrote to Piper’s Daddy. Piper adores John Clark because he’s very, very tall and he married a poet. Who does that? Read on to find out!

John W Clark's avatarThe Private Letters of John W. Clark

Dear Joe Young, the Commenter Who Keeps Asking for a Personalized Letter:

I’m only writing this to put an end to the calls, the letters, and the banners-trailing-planes, although the last one—“Write me or the pilot gets it”—was kind of clever, if alarming.

But the gifts need to stop, seriously. I don’t need Montreal Expos season tickets. I don’t have any use for a Thermos full of uranium. And the Chris Brown-gram (where Chris Brown broke into my apartment, sang a song, and punched me in the face) was really upsetting.

On second thought, this letter is a bad idea.

I can’t establish a precedent where readers can bribe, cajole, or punch me into writing them a letter, no matter how many times they tell PETA that I’m running a cat slaughterhouse in my second bedroom (the protestors are demanding to use our restroom, by the way).

So I’m going…

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Guest Blogger: Sissy

Sissy is guest blogging today!  Here she is:

During lunch yesterday, Piper made this “very ‘aportant” announcement:

“Okay, everyone. See what I’m saying? After lunch, I will be presenting a lalaloopsy play or show. If you need to go to the bathroom, there’s potty breaks. The show is called ‘My Dream’ because me, Piper, dreamed it. I always wanted a lalaloopsy dream, and now I have one! There will be some sad parts, so stick with me. It will be fad-u-lous! Make sure to come!”

Piper promised a show in the afternoon. After a quick trip to the mall and then dinner, she informed us that the title of the show had miraculously changed to “The Five Little Fairies” and that the lalaloopsies were no longer the stars of the show. A lot can change in 4 hours. But when I reminded her of the show thirty minutes later, she replied in her sassiest voice, “Sissy, after this game! We only have three pigs left!” I didn’t ask her what that meant.

I finally got a five minute play out of her, but then there was yet another distraction. A dance party with Daddy sounded so much more fun.

“What happened to the play?” I asked Piper. “I’ve been waiting all day for the show.”

“Show? What show? We need you at the Dance Party! We can’t sing Firework!” she responded.

Apparently, the show must NOT go on.

Yelp!

Do you Yelp? Piper’s Daddy is a true yelp devotee. He checks in all the time everywhere we go. He must know not only what other patrons think of the place but how his own rating is valued. If you’re as devoted as Piper’s Daddy, you, too, can earn a meaningless Yelp rank, such as Earl or Duke.  How do you achieve such Yelp status, you ask? I checked their website.

What is the “Yelp Elite Squad”?

The Yelp Elite Squad is our way of recognizing and rewarding yelpers who are active evangelists and role models, both on and off the site. Elite-worthiness is based on a number of things, including well-written reviews, a fleshed-out personal profile, an active voting and complimenting record, and playing nice with others. Members of the Elite Squad are designated by a shiny Elite badge on their account profile.

As an Elite badge carrying member of Yelp, Piper’s Daddy has risen to the ranks of Duke in our favorite restaurant and two local frozen yogurt establishments. We’re very proud.

Last night we went out to eat. Piper’s Daddy was logging on to Yelp in the car as we pulled into the parking lot. He’s a bit competitive, you see. There could be other restaurant patrons inside just waiting to knock him out of his well-earned Duke position. Piper knows how much it means to him.

“Daddy, did you Yelp?”

“I’m logging in right now. I’ll let you know,” he said.

“Are you the Duke?” Piper asked, excitedly.

“I think so. Just a minute.”

“Daddy, you can be the Duke of my love!”

With that kind of status, who needs Yelp?

Tasty Freeze

This afternoon we went down to our neighborhood sweet shop, Carmen’s, for a summer treat. Sissy had the gelati, a combination of custard and strawberry lemonade ice. Cousin Tay chose a straight pina colada ice. Piper wanted chocolate anything and multiple trips to the toppings bar. After selecting exactly one of all 26 toppings, Piper delivered the following discovery:

“I know why people cry at weddings. It’s because they’re romantic,” Piper began.

“True,” Sissy agreed, shoveling in more icy goodness. “But why does being romantic make you cry?”

“You see,” Piper continued, “when you’re little, everything is perfect. Then you grow up.”

“And?” Cousin Tay said.

“Your parents cry when you get married because they will miss you,” Piper said. “What else do they have to do? After the wedding, they just go home and cry. Because they’re sad. They’re bored. That makes them cry more. I’m just going to stay little.”

The Best Ingredient

After my rant about Piper’s numerous food complaints in “I Hate That,” it seems only fair to share how sweet she can be with food she loves.

Last night Piper dragged in a stack of books for me to read to her as I made dinner. I chopped carrots. I read a book. I chopped celery. She read the book back to me. I brought the broth to a boil and added spices. I read another book. I sauteed seitan and put on a pot for homemade noodles. I read another book. I washed asparagus and spinach. She doused it with olive oil. We put rosemary bread in the oven to warm. Then Piper help set the table and we tasted the soup together.

“You know what makes it taste so good, Mommy?”

“Salt?” I guessed.

“Love. You sweeten it all up.”

Yum.

The Call of the Piper

I was raised with wolves. Okay, maybe not wolves. More like Shelties and German Shepherds. We had more than a dozen roaming our property in the woods of rural Missouri.  My baby pictures mostly feature me in a puddle of puppies. I know pack behavior, and I’ve always known that I was an Alpha. Until Piper joined our family. She often challenges my Alpha status. She’s also drawn to four-legged friends. Piper has never met a dog she didn’t love. In one of my favorite baby pictures of Piper she is curled up under the belly of our friend’s dog, Cocoa. Piper had climbed under their kitchen table to cuddle. Cocoa was trying to get some space from her, so Piper held on like a baby kangaroo trying to climb into its mama’s pouch. Cocoa just swept the floor with Piper attached.

Last weekend we went to visit our friend’s farm house in rural Maryland. They brought along their dog, Leo, and Piper spent most of the day trying to be his best friend.

She got to feed Leo his dinner, which she hasn’t stopped talking about since. Leo took a run through the cow pasture and smeared himself good with manure. Piper thought it made him more attractive. When I suggested that she give Leo a little space, Piper growled at me for the first time “Back Off, Mom!”  I was stunned. Piper has a strong will, but she’s never asserted herself so vehemently against mine. A part of me wanted to cheer her on. Another part of me wanted to hump her back into submission. Leo raised his liquid brown eyes to watch. I opened my mouth to bark back…then stopped. She was right. Leo and she were fine. I didn’t need to intrude. An Alpha doesn’t have to fight every battle. Just the right ones. Piper and Leo let the porch door snap shut behind them as they went off to explore.

I Hate That

Piper loves trying new things. Usually just so that she can tell us she hates it. She’s an adventurous eater  complainer. Even when we fix her favorite things, like basagna, she gripes about the service. Food hating is all the rage in Piper world.

Here’s a list of foods she’s currently hating: stir fry, hot dogs, green grapes, bananas, salad, corn, apple juice, green beans, grilled cheese sandwiches, cold cereal, and water.

She’d like to subsist on macaroni and cheese. Anytime we put something in front of her that isn’t macaroni and cheese she says the same thing: “I Hate That!” But. Then. She finishes every morsel on her plate. For all of her complaining, she’s a great eater.

Sometimes she forgets to complain at the beginning of the meal, so she saves all of her offenses for after the food is gone. “That wasn’t any good,” Piper says, examining her empty plate. “I didn’t like any of it. Can I have some more, please?”

Doing Fast

There is a theory in early childhood education studies that the slow pace of children is intended to teach parents to have more patience (I totally just made that up). At least that’s why I believe a Piper landed in our family. She moves at her own pace. That pace alternates between hummingbird and sloth. There’s nothing in between. If there is a cupcake involved, she’s speedy. If there is a chore assigned, her legs suddenly have cramps and she can hardly move a muscle. She also operates a bit like the dog in Up who is constantly distracted by Squirrel!

At lunch after church yesterday, Piper was distracted by Tiles! We were at a diner and the floor was one of those old-fashioned black and white patterned numbers. Piper decided she could only step on the black tiles for the entire mile long route to the restroom. Her tile selection meant she had to weave in and out of aisles, hopping gingerly from foot to foot and waving her arms in the air for balance. You’d think it might annoy the other patrons, but a Piper is so darn cute that people just smile and pat her like she’s an adorable puppy. Because I was afraid that her bladder may not match her tile concentration, I suggested several times that we hurry up a bit more. She ignored me. I suggested picking up the pace slightly more vehemently. Piper stood her ground on the lone black tile, crossed her arms over her chest, and said, “Mom, I don’t do fast.” Unless, of course, she wants to.

Scoring Big

To conclude the birthday week festivities, we had a small party for Piper yesterday morning at the park. It was a breakfast picnic. She invited a few friends from her class. It was blazing hot. We brought watermelon, water balloons, and iced water. There were bubble wands and beach balls. It was just the right size. Alex and Andrew, Piper’s best buddies, were there with competing Lalaloopsy presents. It was an impressive match. Alex won be sheer volume, but Andrew surged ahead when the Lalaloopsy tattoos were revealed. There was a hush among the other six children gathered and then a “Whoa!” The tats were a huge hit. Piper’s Daddy leaned over to Andrew to congratulate him. “Nice. You scored big with Piper,” he said.

Andrew swaggered away to the swing set and called over his shoulder, “I always score big with Piper.”