Sunday, May 23, 2004


Oh, dear Jesus. The L-Tard and I have been discussing whether or not to get the Mini-Leo circumcised if it's a boy. (We have decided not to if it's a girl!) I decided to let him choose since he knows what it's like to have a penis. Last night we had a conversation about this.

Me: So, have you given any thought to whether or not we should circumcise the kid if it's a boy?
Leo: Do you think it costs extra?
Me: What? Well, of course it would cost extra, but I really don't think that should be the deciding--
Leo: Why not? All other things being equal, it's cheaper to leave it on, so that's what we should do.

This morning I was telling him about all the nasty shit that a baby can have when it's first born, such as engorged breasts that leak "witch's milk" because the kid was flooded with the mother's hormones.

Me: Yeah, with our luck, the kid will leak witch's milk and have lanugo--
Leo: Eww, I hope not![Something about his reaction made me think he had no idea what lanugo was.]
Me: Do you even know what lanugo is?
Leo: Yeah, it's a little horn.

I finally asked him where he thought the horn would be, and he indicated that it would grow straight out of the top of the Mini-Leo's head, perhaps functioning as a sort of battering ram during the birthing process. (Later he called the horn "vestigial.") I couldn't imagine where he got this idea, but then I realized that he must've seen his baby pictures.

Thursday, May 13, 2004


A quick update--Yesterday the Leotard wanted to use the electric pencil sharpener, but there were no batteries in it:

Leo: God damn it!
Me: What?
Leo: Why does this thing use weird batteries? I've never even heard of M batteries before.
Me: Are you sure it doesn't say double A and it just looks like an M?
Leo: No! It says '4 M batteries'-- Oh. I see what you mean.

Friday, May 07, 2004


The Leotard is spazzing out over the last post, claiming that the whole mouse teeth story is a bunch of "lies." For those of you who doubt me, see the post from 4/23/04.

A few nights ago I had a hard time sleeping because Leo was snoring. Allow me to take a moment to describe exactly what his snoring is like. He has a vast repertoire of snorts, grunts, wheezes, groans, whistles, and hisses. He sounds like he's messing around with an old radio show's sound effects cabinet. Sometimes when I'm jarred awake in the morning I turn to find him lying face up, with his lips cemented together except for a round hole in the middle where his breath whistles out like a tea kettle.

So a few nights ago I went to bed after him and he was already at it full force. I tried for quite a while to fall asleep, but it was no use. I'm not allowed to nudge him awake or turn him over because he'll bolt up, yelling "Why are you mean to me?" So I have to wake him gently and verbally. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Leo. Leo. Leo.
Leo: What what! What!
Me: You were snoring really loud.
Leo: It wasn't me.
Me: Yes, it was.
Leo: No. It was somebody else.
Me: No, it wasn't. You're the only other person in the room.
Leo: Oooooh! What are you? Some kind of freaky--some kind of freaky EXPERT?
Me: Well, I'm an expert on how many people are in the room.
Leo: Ooooh! Are you?
Me: Will you just prop yourself up?
Leo: (Shocked.) WHAT?
Me: Will you just put some pillows under you and prop yourself up?
Leo: You expect me to--You actually think I'm going to-- I'm not going to POSE for you!
Me: What?
Leo: I am NOT going to POSE for you!
Me: What do you think you're posing for?
Leo: You're going to put me on LEOTARDED!
Me: You got that right!

Tuesday, May 04, 2004


It's been a busy week, so I haven't updated as much as I should have. You could help me out by sending me your favorite leotardisms.

I realized something about the Leotard. He does, indeed, say strikingly leotarded things, but on a daily basis he is more a source of constant minileotardisms. I keep thinking, "That needs to go on Leotarded," but then in the midst of the influx of minileotardisms, I forget any particular one. Danielle and Dave were over on Sunday night, and I think they got a taste for what I mean.

I do remember a couple from the past week. First, I was saying that I told an annoying woman I work with that I was pregnant in order to avoid a surprise ambush if she found out on her own. Leo interjected, "PLACENTA IS TASTY!" I assume that he was imitating her, but it wasn't really clear. And, frankly, given his eating habits, I'm worried. The Leotard is the most carnivorous man I have ever met. He is fond of, as he puts it, "the mixing of the meats." This means that left to his own devices, his dinner plate is Noah's ark. I have seen him eat a meal of roast beef, fried chicken, a pork chop, a fish filet, and meatloaf.

One of the most fun things to do with the Leotard is take advantage of his extreme gullibility. It is very easy to deceive and confuse him, and it's a lot of fun to watch him get confused and disoriented. (This is why he called it "a trick!" when I told him about lungs replenishing blood with oxygen.) This weekend The Princess Bride was on, and I was trying to convince him that Andre the Giant was Arnold Schwarzenegger. It didn't work, but it was funny to watch him emphatically argue with me about it.

I did get him later, though. On the news, they were talking about how scientists have grown teeth using stem cells, though it has only been done with mice. I said, "It's weird that they would use mice, since mice don't even have actual teeth." Leo got really confused and said, "What? What do you mean?" I said, "They don't have real teeth. They have cartilage buds." Leo started getting disoriented and was stammering, "No they don't! Is this some kind of a trick? You're trying to trick me! Mice have teeth!" "No," I said, "they're like lizards or fish." "Really?" he asked, "No... no! They have teeth, don't they? Are you tricking me?" He would have bought it hook, line and sinker if I hadn't started laughing.