In which Mike regrets teaching Merrie about SuperTeddy

And now, the aftermath of Mike's recent foto-reminiscithon w/Merrie:

April,

Formerly little sis. Remember 17 days ago, when I explained to my daughter about the glories of my Super Teddy of my youth and how you toss him through the air yelling, “Hiiyaaaaa Kowabunga Super Tedyyy!!”. Then remember how my daughter made her own Super Teddy and sent him hurling into my wife’s giant indoor potted plant. If you don’t remember that, then it will be difficult for you to understand what happened today. It’s probably best to think of that story and my story today as the writing of some middle-aged woman who planned to tell different parts of a story over 2 weeks apart without accounting for the disorientation caused by the separation in time, all because she could look at those 2 parts of the story at the same time.

As you may recollect, I had been telling you about mom and dad talking about chaos yesterday, as I was showing pictures of the conversation to my daughter. Well, as it turns out, my daughter made her escape from my story-telling / picture-showing and hid some place I couldn’t find her. And as is my wont, after spending a whole month telling stories using pictures about events in which I participated at best tangentially, I decided I was exhausted and needed to go to bed. Little did I suspect that my daughter would be in the process of passing down crucial history about Patterson youth and childhood to my son, by showing him how to make his own Super Teddy. I think this was because she was never able to extract her Super Teddy out of the potted plant.

I heard them talking in another room through the paper thin walls of our house. My son said to my daughter, “Whatcha doing?” My daughter said to my son, “I’m making a Super Teddy!” My son said to my daughter, “But that’s MY Teddy!” My daughter said to my son, “When I’m done, he’ll be better than your teddy. He’ll have SUPER POWERS!.” I know you must thinking, formerly little sis, I didn’t actually tell my daughter Super Teddy had super powers. In fact I told her quite the opposite. Naturally, the only way I can tolerate an outright lie like that coming from one of my family members, is if it is accompanied by a pun. Being the patient man I am, I decided to wait for the pun.

I heard my children padding down the hallway to my room. My son said to my daughter, “He will?” My daughter said to my son, “Uh huh…All I hafta do is this…” I took at little glance at them to make sure they were coming in. I was a little startled that my daughter was about 2/3 the length of the door, making her about 1 ½ metres tall.

I was however, impressed with my daughter’s startlingly good aim. The Super Teddy “Whap!”ed into my head and missed my wife’s head completely as my daughter said, “Hi-Yaaa Kowabungaaahh Super Teddy!” It was close to my demonstrated “Hiiyaaaaa Kowabunga Super Tedyyy!!” yell. I opted not to complain, but instead decided it would be worthwhile to give them notes on how to improve.

As I hover-chased my children hover-running down the hallway in order to give them notes, my son said to my daughter, “You got daddy out of bed!!” My daughter said to my son, “See…Super Powers!” Now, formerly little sis, getting me out of bed is easier than you think (as the Kelpfroths learned when they tried to burn my family to death). My claim is that I was tired after spending the last month looking at photographs and needed the rest and the opportunity to grow a slight beard. Instead I got the opportunity to run and practice my Boris Karloff imitation. It was not my best imitation, but it was good enough to frighten my children.

Sunday tomorrow, formerly little sis, and I think I am sleeping in, provided I am not pelted with bears.

Love,
Michael Patterson

LOL, Mike! U prolly need 2 think twice abt what else U teach yr kiddles abt what U did when U were a kid.

Howard, U R rite, we def. need more clues abt Jeremy. Every single boy who is not Gerald or Duncan did not go on that joy ride in Dad's car. Ooh, but OTOH, Dad DID take Jeremy out 4 all those test drives while trying 2 decide which car 2 buy. Do U think THAT cd B a clue? I dunno, that also feels like grasping @ straws.

Apes