Saturday, March 27, 2010

Butt Face













I have a serious penchant for potty humor, it makes me laugh. So, a month ago Eric and Emily went out of town and left Eleanor with our family. I came up with a fool proof plan to make Liam and Ella laugh. I invented "butt face". I squeeze my face cheeks together, and blow. It made such an exquisite, wet farting noise that both Liam and Ella almost peed their pants. I kept doing it and doing it, and they almost threw up laughing.
Now I haven't heard or seen Ella copy this invention at her house, maybe she has forgotten, maybe her parents scolded her when they saw her imitate it. Liam however, still loves it to this day. Initially, it had made me laugh so hard , but upon reflection I have realized I have created a monster. Think of what it may be like for your child say and imitate "butt face" in church, how about the doctor's office? Not funny, actually now that I think about it, I'm imagining Katie have to embarrassingly explain "butt face" to the pediatrician, "butt face", "butt face", "butt face", ha ha. Actually, sorry Katie (snicker, snicker). So now, we're trying to redirect Liam by convincing him to say "fish face" instead of "butt face". So far, it's been a half-ass success.

Monday, March 8, 2010

What Are You?




Being half Puerto Rican and half Ukrainian with a Serbian last name sounds like it has its perks, but you're not accepted by Puerto Ricans because your not "Puerto Rican enough", Ukrainians bug out because you show up with your grandma at their Orthodox church and they're thinking, get this Puerto Rican guy outta here. Serbians don't know how to handle you and you don't know how to handle them because you dont look, talk, or act Serbian, you're only Serbian by last name( my dad was adopted). I get "are you Jewish, I thought you were Greek or Italian or something, don't you have a Polish name, you can't be Hispanic because you don't speak Spanish, what are you?" The truth is I'm none of these things, I'm a Chicagoan, true, bleedin' baby blue and red. This is the only one identity I can hold on to, without insecurity, with confidence, without having to explain and justify. As a Chicagoan I am just me.