So I had a startling revelation recently. For years now, I've been telling everybody about how when I was in preschool, my teacher's toddler daughter, Caramel, would sometimes drink from the toilet. I have vivid memories of my fellow preschoolers rushing back from the bathroom, announcing that Caramel was "drinking from the toilet again!" It wasn't until about January that I began to be bothered by a few itty-bitty problems with this story, which are as follows: 1) I never actually saw said Caramel drinking from the toilet. In fact, I don't have any visual memory of a "Caramel" at all. You would think I would have at least a vague recollection of a twinkly-eyed, boisterous little malarkey maker scampering around our play area and leading her mother on a merry chase, as one would expect from a two-year-old who guzzles toilet water. 2) What kind of name is "Caramel" for a little girl? Unless said little girl's parental unit happens to be Gwyneth Paltrow or Frank Zappa, of course. (Although it's still better than a lot of other names parents give girls nowadays, like "Emerson.") Anyway, if you've already figured out the solution to this mystery, congratulations. You only beat me by 30 years. If not, then I'll just come right out and tell you: I'm starting to think that maybe "Caramel" was a dog.
Okay, important stuff aside, here's what's happened during my two-month blogging hiatus. (These hiatuses--hiati?--always seems to hit in February for some reason.) On January 31, we celebrated Chinese New Year because, according to my dad, we in the Green family are now all officially part Chinese. And I'm not about to argue with the dang paterfamilias. Anyway, we put up some of those colored lanterns (the red one of which we had to take back to the store five times before we got one that worked) and had a shindy-digger at our house, wherein everybody brought a different Chinese food item and great merriment was had. I even designed a party game where you had to mold props out of Play-Do and get others on your team to guess who you were. I know, not very Chinese. But still a lot more fun than most of the "official" games I came across on Chinese New Year websites, such as (seriously) "Rock Paper Scissors." Oh, the laughs! The thrills! The suspense!
Last Sunday, Nick and Julia blessed their baby in sacrament meeting, and pretty much the whole Green family was around for the occasion, minus Aunt Bethlehem and her and Sheridan's two kiddies. But Sheridan himself came up, and Ting-Ting attached to him like human Krazy Glue for pretty much the entire time he was around. (Children that age seem to have a sixth sense for which uncle will eventually be raking in the most money.) We hung with the family, played Lie-Brary and Smart Butt (not its real name), supped at Texas Roadhouse (most of us had steak or ribs, though Ting-Ting was pretty happy just eating peanuts out of the barrel), and attended a lovely post-sacrament meeting luncheon at Nick and Julia's apartment with roughly 30 other people. The fire code hung its head in shame that day, my friends. But t'was well worth the dangers of trampling and smoke inhalation, as so many luncheons are.
So we got season tickets for Hale Center Theater for the year, and in the past two months we've attended two of their six shows. The first, The Foreigner, was just as hilarious as I remember from high school, with the added bonus of not having what's-his-snotty-little-punkface that I always wanted to give a toilet swirlie to in the lead role. I remember going to that play, sitting next to Cherie Jones, whom I kind of had a thing for at the time, and every time the lead guy said something hilarious, I would refuse to laugh because it was what's-his-face saying it, and Cherie next to me would be laughing her head off, then she would look at me like I was putting oatmeal down my trousers and say "What's the matter, Ben? Don't you think it's FUNNY?" But now, 16 years later, I was free to laugh again. The second play was Les Miserables, which I'd seen twice before at Capitol Theater, but it was a lot different seeing it in a box theater and actually being able to distinguish the different characters. Kind of a whole new perspective. The cast did a pretty good job, although I was amused by their frequent and not always successful attempts to cut out the swear words, such as the unwholesome and highly frowned upon "butt." (Though they left the song "Lovely Ladies" in in its entirely.) Ah, gotta love them Utahans. Then just a few days ago we went to Much Ado About Nothing at the U with Grandma, and good times were once again had in abundance, once we actually caught on to what was going on. Right around intermission, I think. (For some strange reason, about half of the cast members were dressed in druid outfits.)
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