April's Real Blog

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Kiddie Antix

So, Mike posted abt sumthing that happed yesterday:

Dear formerly little sis,

Today I discovered that my daughter has a tremendous memory.

I had been sitting in an outdoor chair, wearing nothing but my bright red shorts and baseball cap, I found in one of dad’s closets. I was reading a large blue-covered book and watching my children play. It made me feel just like dad, and I was certain for a time there, if you had seen me there, you might have thought I was dad too, except a much younger dad with a buffer body and a can of beer beneath my chair. My nipples flared out, and I hoped they would be enough to distract people from noticing I have no body hair.

My daughter was wearing her usual rainbow-coloured swimsuit and my son was in a manly blue swimsuit, since they had been playing in our outdoor pool. She poured water in a bucket, while my son steadied the bucket. They had dug up a part of the grass and created a dirt spot, which is the kind of thing mom would never have tolerated in me as a child, but I am parent of a newer generation. I am the kind of dad, who lets his kids play in the dirt and tear up the grass to get at it. I know you used to let the dogs tear up the yard, but I have kids, so dogs are no longer necessary for yard destruction.

After carrying the bucket of water to the mud, my daughter proceeded to make a series of mud pies for my son to sample, which he did with the obvious effort of a food connoisseur. He chewed it like mad with a “CRUNCH, CRAK, GRNCH, MFF, MF, MFF, CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH”. He obviously did not approve of his sister’s cooking, because he spit it out with a “BRBL PFFT PTOOBFT!” and declared to his sister, “Dat’s not chocolate!...It’s dirt!” I completely approved of his recommendation. I can remember many a time when our sister Elizabeth cooked up one of her burnt butt casseroles, when I was tempted to say something close to the same thing.

However, my son felt the need to share his food criticism with me, as if I could make my daughter cook better. He ran over to me with tears flaring up off his head and with an odd wobbly gait, as if he was running bow-legged. He protested to me that my daughter had told him the mud pies were chocolate. I said to him, “You saw her make them out of dirt. What did you expect?” But he whined on and on that he had been wronged by his sister, and the whining spurred in me such fatherly pride. After all, as you well know, formerly little sis, one of the main tenets of being a Patterson is to whine about being wronged, in a situation you could have clearly avoided. For examples of this, see any story our sister Liz may tell about her love life.

However, even a Patterson father has a threshold for whining, and I finally relented to confront my daughter about the situation with one of my evil stares to try to make her feel guilty. It didn’t work. I think it was because my hat was making her think of our dad, and his long gone ability to discipline children. My daughter simply said, “I wanted him to know the difference!” That took me back to the Easter, when I told her her mother’s breast milk was chocolate. What a memory my daughter has. I fooled her all those years ago, and now she fools her brother with a similar idea about chocolate. I was so gob smacked about the idea of having such a powerful memory, hair started to grow out of my ears, or I instantly grew side burns, or I grew an extra eyebrow. I am not sure. What I do know was that my son has now learned that if you pick up dirt and call it chocolate, it’s still dirt. There’s a valuable lesson, any way you look at it.

Michael Patterson
Oh so that's what all the yelling was abt outside yesterday. I was trying 2 prepare 4 my farm trip by reading sum veterinary texts I'd borrowed from the library. Then Liz came along, 2 do her laundry, and she sed this was a foolish waste of my time, cuz if I'm destined 2 B a vet, then a veterinary career will fall in my lap. Well, I think I shd prepare myself, y'know, just 2 B on the safe side.


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  • At 5:14 PM, Anonymous honoria delaney-forsythe said…


    Dearest future sister. I so loved having you here at my house for the reception for you and brother Gerald getting back together again after a month of separation. I especially appreciated you ignoring the comments Pater made about how Gerald had drained enough of his manly juices with Becky McGuire so he should be able to tolerate a relationship with a Patterson woman without too much damage to his psychosexual self. I love my Pater, but when it comes to discussions about brother's psychosexual self, he can be a little ungentlemanly. I thought his "high 5s" with brother were unnecessary. I was a little confused when you mentioned in response to the "high 5s" you had drained some of your womanly juices with an axle, but I think younger brother, Pater, and Mater all understood that you had just gotten very excited over getting your G1 licence.

    I must also apologize for not forwarning you about Mater's latest diet trend--the dirt diet. I can assure you that Mater uses only the highest quality dirt, so you don't need to fear getting any kind of stomach diseases. It was not a practical joke, as you initially supposed, before you ran off sobbing after saying, "That's not chocolate!...It's dirt!".

    Mater learned that dirt has 0 calories, 0 sodium, 0 fat, 0 carbohydrates and 0 protein; no matter how much of it you eat. She found if she makes it look like chocolate, she is much more able to consume it. I must admit it is a fairly effective diet for losing weight. I've been on it ever since my last school exam last week, and already I have lost a few kilograms and Mater says I am finally getting my figure to the right size for a Delaney-Forsythe woman.

    The only downside is I seem to be tired all the time, no matter how much dirt I eat, and when I kiss my Jeremy flower I find that my tongue is roaming around his mouth in a most unladylike fashion searching for bits of food which may have been caught between his teeth. I used to be a little bit disturbed my Jeremy flower was such a poor flosser, but now I find I secretly hope he hasn't flossed at all.

    Goodness! What kinds of things I am writing! I must remember to go back and edit that up before I fall asleep unexpectedly and accidentally press th

  • At 5:48 PM, Blogger howard said…


    "That's not chocolate!...It's dirt!". I just love that phrase. The Newlyfoobs reality TV show people wanted something controversial to spice up the show after you and Gerald reconciled, and he stopped hanging around Becky's and my house in a semi-naked state pretending to do home repairs. The Newlyfoobs were actually a little happy to see Gerald go, after the aborted fistfight between him and me kept ending in Gerald crying last Tuesday.

    So, Becky and I took a trip to the Empire Hotel to see if they would cater our reception. Of course, the Empire Hotel means Anne Nichols (the worst chef in Milborough and the catering manager at the Empire Hotel) is involved. The idea was that Becky would taste a sample and declare she loved it, and I would taste a sample and declare my new catch phrase--"That's not {fill in the blank food}!...It's dirt!". The Newlyfoobs people hope the catchphrase will take off, like Jessica Simpson's comment about "Chicken of the Sea" tuna, which gained her show the "Chicken of the Sea" company as a sponsor. Fortunately for me, I didn't really have to act, since most of the food Anne Nichols makes does in fact, taste like dirt, albeit flavoured dirt, I suppose.

    Of course, Anne suspected something was up when the Newlyfoobs people came with me there, but her bosses at the Empire Hotel wanted the free publicity. She whispered to me if I embarrassed her on camera she would kill me. I thought she was kidding, but the Newlyfoobs people got some great shots of her chasing me around the hotel with a large, carving knife. Fortunately Anne is old and fat and tires easily. She is possibly in worse physical shape than your mother, if you can believe that. I was able to easily outrun her, even wearing my evening gown and stilletto heels (not my best running outfit). The Newlyfoobs people were quite happy with the footage they got, although I am not sure I will watch the episode when it airs. The sight of Anne Nichols sweating and huffing after me carrying a carving knife and piece of chocolate cake and yelling, "When I catch you, you'll really be tasting dirt!" might give me nightmares.

    Howard Bunt

  • At 5:57 PM, Anonymous jeremy jones said…

    april, u mite b kinda worried 'bout honoria aftah that last message of hers. i know i wuz worried 'bout it. i got her a box of chocolates & i went ovah 2 her house & told her i wuz givin' her a box of chocolate-shaped dirt. 'course honoria took 1 bite & sed "thass not dirt!...it's chocolate!". & 'course i sed, "u bettah take anothah bite 2b sure, cuz a true dirt connoisseur wud chew it till she made a sound like “CRUNCH, CRAK, GRNCH, MFF, MF, MFF, CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRUNCH”. honoria agreed w/me & she got almost 1/2 the box down her throat b4 her mom sniffed out the chocolate & told me 2 leave. her mom wuz carryin' a feather wen i left, so i kinda suspect wut i did wuzn't gonna help honoria much.

  • At 9:48 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    omg, honoria, after ger begged me 2 eat sum of that dirt-cuisine of yr mom's? and i did? well, i totally hadta puke my guts out! i tried 2 get inside and 2 the washroom 2 do it, but i cdn't make it on time. i was rite by the back entrance of yr house when i totally lost it. and 2 my total horror, rite when i finished, i str8ened up an' found yr mom standing rite there lookin' @ me. i totally xxpected her 2 yell @ me 4 making a mess, but instead, she like hugged me and welcomed me 2 the fam! then she gave me tips on how 2 "purge w/decorum" and summoned the maid 2 clean up. sorry, griselda!

    howard, becky sent me an im abt the new "it's dirt" catchprase. she was saying it wd help make newlyfoobs way, way better than jessica simpson and nick lachey's show.

    jeremy, mrs. forsythe gave me one of thoze feathers in a special leather case, as a "welcome" gift. i came w/a v. disturbing set of instructions for use.


  • At 12:22 AM, Anonymous liz patterson said…


    I will now talk about the rest of what happened at the wedding, at the reception, there were all the usual boring toasts and speeches, there were a lot of them, and I have to say, they were really really bad. The best man went on and on about Shawna-Marie's beauty even though it was plain to see that Shawna-Marie looked very very manly and unattractive that day, then someone wished them to have "lots" of kids which was totally stupid because everyone knows Shawna-Marie is one of those crazy people who says if she ever decides to have kids she will have only one, and then Shawna-Marie's dad got up and started bawling and calling her "my little girl," well, by then it was obvious what the problem was, everyone in the room was incredibly drunk.

    Well, then it was time for my knight in shining armor, my presumed future husband Mason to say the last speech and get the dance going, but he didn't, he just sat there, so I reminded him, except for some stupid reason, I called him "master of ceremonies" and not "best man," it was then that I realized that I was in fact also kind of drunk, but not as drunk as I realized Mason was, he had his hand over his mouth like he was gonna barf, but then he did a faceplant on the table, and started to snore, and I saw that his nose was huge, and though I knew that the nose plus snoring was a good sign he would be my future husband, but I was not so interested anymore, now that I learned he does not know the appropriate level of drunkenness for a member of the wedding party, which is "tipsy," not "unconscious," this was a very disappointing development, but it did occur to me that this might be the perfect opportunity for someone else to save the day, some one quiet and unassuming, an ordinary guy, a guy who you would never think would be great at anything exciting, a guy who doesn't drink because the Association of North American Accountants recommends against it, you know, someone like that, I'm thinking of a type, not a specific person or anything.

    More later, Liz


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