A Spring Fling

Hey, America.

I get a lot of anxiety over all these trivial events my kids participate in through the community.  Whether it's a school play, a soccer game, a church program, etc. - I stress over getting a good seat, having the right lens on my camera, and whether or not I have enough battery on my phone to video record everything in the event I need to.

Now, the last couple times my kids have been in a musical at their school (a play, a concert, whatever the hell you call these things), I've arrived early in order to sit relatively close to the front of the assembled crowd in the gym.  I always find myself sitting in the second row, towards the middle of the aisle, which, as it is, is a pretty decent vantage point considering that the first row is always reserved for teachers and classroom aides.

At least it should be.

Here we have a great shot of the back of Jabba's head. . .

The bane of my existence are those people (see here) that waddle in late, and help themselves to an empty seat right in the very front row.  Frequently teachers are needed elsewhere and don't utilize their reserved seats, subsequently leaving a few empty seats, so these latecomers come in and plop themselves down DIRECTLY IN FRONT of those of us who were smart enough to arrive early and nab supposedly good seats.

I guess I was raised differently, but if I came in late to my kid's school thingy, and was forced to pick a seat in the very front row, I would NOT pick the seat directly in front of the guy holding an SLR and three different camera lenses.  Call me crazy, but that guy's there to take pictures.

Also, I'd be more careful about the food I eat - you gotta take care of yourself.

Anyway, here's my kid's stupid school thingy:

Alayna and her friend, Alaina.  The 3rd grade classrooms came into the gym to watch the 1st grade performance.  I had wanted to take a half-day for these concerts, but Abby's was at 10:30am, and Alayna's was at 2:30pm. . . which meant I was forced to take a full day off of work.

First Graders (Abby's in the front row, all the way to the right.)

Abby's BFFF (the extra 'F' stands for 'fairy,' so I'm told), Larkin, and Jackson, our neighbor from down the street.

After the concert, Kris and I ran a few errands before returning to the school for the Third Grade concert in the afternoon. . .

Warming up

Our seats were about the same as last time, except for this concert Alayna was at the opposite end of the stands, a few rows back.

Some genius decided it'd be a good idea to block Alayna and her two friends - both of whom are just about as short as Alayna is herself - with a bunch of monster-children that are nearly my height.  The result was that we got a pretty solid look at Alayna's forehead for the duration of the concert.  Which, as you can imagine, was pretty rewarding.  Definitely worth taking the time off of work.

Alayna and her crew, walking back to class, following the program.

Nice job, forehead.

- Brian

Halloween 2011, Pt. III: Trick or Treating Through Southchase

Happy Halloween, Kids!

Today was a horrible, horrible day at work.  My students were bouncing off the walls in anticipation of this evening being Halloween, and they were all sharpening their swords for Trick or Treating later on after school.  Made my job a total blast today.  Love working on holidays.

We had learned out lesson the hard way last year, when we had gone out with the Woloweic clan and hit up the surrounding cul de sacs in Blue Ridge II (our neighborhood).  Remember?  Anyway, we skipped Blue Ridge II all together and cut across Isle of Wright St. to hit up the neighborhood cul de sacs where, last year, there was scores of candy to be had.

Good play on our part, that was.  Every other house, about, had a solid set up, or, at the very least, someone passing out candy.  This is good for exhausted parents who have already put in a full day of work and have to move at a toddler pace through the crowds.  We only had to move up and down one street this year in order to score a bucket load of candy for each kid (most of which will be donated to my 'well-behaved' students tomorrow - I don't want all that sugary crap lying around my house tempting me and rotting my kids' teeth).

Anyway, here's a bunch of pictures from the Hough's Trick or Treating Adventure through Southchase - no video, unfortunately, as I used my Sony video-camera instead of the one on my phone (my phone lacks night vision, which is an essential feature when Trick or Treating).

Enjoy:

Setting off to Trick or Treat

Abby attempted walking for awhile, but that didn't last too long...

The Cannonball is a HUGE fan of taking candy from strangers.  This may or may not pose a serious threat in the future.

Yes, I went in my work clothes.  I figured seeing a teacher out and about trick or treating might scare some kids.

Awaiting plunder.

Attempting to walk (again).  After 45 minutes or so of this, both kids were pretty much spent.  It got to the point where Kris and I were each carrying a kid and their candy.  That sucks for everybody involved.

Leaving a spook house...

Trick or Treating...

Funned out.

This house had some random guy dressed up in a ghoul costume that had been terrifying kids all night.  He'd jump out and scare trick or treaters, who then tore ass across the neighborhood shrieking in fear.  Apparently, according to the guy passing out candy, the only kid brave enough to stand up to his onslaught all night was Abby.  Once that chick has a taste for candy, she's like a blood-crazed shark.

SUGAR!!!!

Once again - classic, vintage Halloween specials from the 1980s following the Trick or Treat venture. 

So... now that Halloween's over and done with, we can pack up the majority of the Fall/Halloween decorations and have a few days before popular culture pressures us into breaking out the Christmas decorations.  Christmas usually starts the day after Halloween nowadays - in some stores down here in Orlando, they had Christmas decor on sale in August.

But seriously - who likes Thanksgiving anyway, right?  Puritans, Native Americans, and fat people - that's who.

(Well, probably not Native Americans anymore...)

- Brian