Code Name: Klutz

You ever hear stories of how in the old days dads would put a pair of boxing gloves on their squabbling kids and let them duke it out for themselves? Tonight I was going to videotape for you the modern day equivalent: Wii Sword Fighting. I was going to write about how I think it's a great outlet for my kids to stab and hit each other over the head with long and heavy weapons without all the blood and trauma. (Plus, I was going to point out how cute J is when he wiggles his caboose all over the place in his quest to knock out the bad guys).

However, I got a whole 'nother post out of it. Watch and see for yourself:

Untitled from Tacy Cauthron on Vimeo.

I think laughing mercilessly at people who fall is in my genes. I remember being in the car with my mom and watching a pedestrian fall off the curb. My mom laughed so hard that she was barely able to ask the person if they were okay. (The person was, but I think he felt much like PG... humiliated and annoyed). We can't help it, and I like to think that if we were ever in a situation where we saw that a person was seriously injured, the urge to laugh would cease.

Here's to hoping.

Anyway, it occured to me while I was watching this (and rewatching, laughing, rewinding, rewatching, etc) that I don't know why I even bother calling the kids by code names when I write for this blog. You all know what my kids' names are. And if you didn't, you'd just have to look at the back of J's shirt, where the name JAKE is clearly spelled out for you.

And poor PG. It's going to be hard for me to look her in the eyes and call her "Grace" for a while.

You think she'll object to Princess Klutz?