My, How Time Does Fly

Wow, Laura and I were married sixteen years ago today. Sometimes it’s hard to believe it’s been that long, but the rest of the time I can’t even remember what life was like before marriage. And yes, that’s a good thing; saying “I do” was probably the best move I ever made.

We went longer than some couples before having kids — a full ten years — and I think that was a good thing for us. It gave us time to get to know each other, to travel and do a lot of the things we wanted to before letting kids take over our lives. But honestly, now that we’ve got them — and as time- and energy-consuming as they have indeed turned out to be — I often wonder why we put off the fun for so long.

Laura’s been getting together the kids’ old clothes and toys for a consignment sale coming up this weekend, and it was a weird experience going backwards through time as we unpacked the bins. Here is Jason’s old sleeper, here is Scott’s old shirt, here is Grace’s “Daddy’s Little Girl” pajamas…it’s bizarre how foreign and ancient those artifacts can seem when none of them go back more than six years. And sobering to think those little people were here for so fleeting a moment, replaced by their older selves, who in turn will vanish on us soon enough.

Grace is flirting with walking now; she likes to toddle around the house with us holding her hands for support. Yesterday Jason let her go and she stood unaided for a couple of minutes, beaming. Later in the day she took one or two steps at a time between Laura and me, but by then she was pretty tired and had trouble staying on her feet.

Last week we took the kids to Toys-R-Us to shop for Grace’s birthday. She’d never been, so it was a real treat for her; every time we turned an aisle in her stroller, she’d let out “oohs” and “aahs”. The boys of course wanted everything in the store. Later Jason told me if we go back again he’s taking his notebook so he can make a list for Christmas. “And the last thing on the list will be a new notebook,” he said, “because I’m going to fill this one up.”

I think it was last Saturday I was watching one of those numbingly stupid Leslie Nielson movies on the local Fox affiliate. “Wrongfully Accused,” it was called. I’d never heard of it, but if you’ve ever seen a Leslie Nielson movie you already know what happens. Anyway I was soon laughing in spite of myself and Jason and Scott came in to watch with me. At one point, Nielson is trying to make a stealthy escape from the police and hot-wires a car. Unfortunately for him it turns out to be a “low rider” that bounces around playing “La Cucaracha” on the car horn, which considerably complicated his escape but sent the boys into hysterics. That gag got us through the rest of the weekend as we worked it into everything we did. For example, Jason’s Flash action figure and Scott’s Atom action figure are under attack from Lex Luthor, so I bring Batman to the rescue in the batmobile…bouncing along to the tune of “La Cucaracha.”

What can I say, I’m a comedy genius with the 6-and-under crowd. But alas, soon enough they grow up, and then Daddy’s more embarrassing than funny…just another clueless geezer pulling faces and spouting corny punchlines for cheap laughs.

Suddenly I have a new appreciation for Leslie Nielson.

2 Comments

  1. Well Nightwing, if it makes you feel any better, you’ll always be an embarrassingly unfunny old timer to me. 🙂

    I have a lot of good memories watching television with my parents. They made sure I didn’t watch more than an hour of TV or so on a daily basis, and while I can do what I like now that I live on my own, that’s stayed with me: even today I usually plan my TV watching, instead of just plopping down and watching Law & Order or Saved By the Bell just because they’re on.

    One thing my Dad liked to do was talk about a show with me after we finished watching. Since he was a big fan of Star Trek, we watched the Next Generation together, and we talked about it afterward (this was back in the day when TNG was so superpopular it was a synonym for coolness, days that seem like another planet now). He got me thinking in terms of value judgments. Was what Picard did here right or wrong? And so on.

    Part of the way I approach fiction, even escapist fiction, is as a result of those sort of sessions. The gift they gave me was that I approached books and movies and other things not passively but actively.

    I’m often troubled by a lot of movie critics that apologize for lousy movies (Transformers!) by saying “well, it’s really entertaining if you go in and agree to turn your brain off.” Mindless fun and all that. That bothers me because you shouldn’t ever turn your brain off.

    A while back, we had a conversation about, I think it was about Batman or something (I forgot the details) but you said that the chief difference between us is that you always see characters as the products of free market forces, whereas I saw them as something “artistic,” independent of outside trends and pop culture.

    I guess if I had to put it into words myself, the way I see it, suspension of disbelief is not a gift. Suspension of disbelief is like trust: it has to be earned, not given, and it can be broken. And part of what makes suspension of disbelief work is the conviction on the part of the writers that something is “real,” that it’s happening. Science fiction and superheroes have an even greater obligation to do this than normal kinds of stories. It takes no effort to convince us a story set in LA about a girl that wants to be a star is actually happening, but it takes a lot more to convince us of the believability of a family’s story on mankind’s first Martian colony, for instance.

  2. Sixteen for me too. (Slightly different date.) But… this is about you. Congrats on the anniversary.

    The comment about the notebook… Heh-heh. That’s pretty clever. And a little frightening.

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