I love Calvin and Hobbes. I always have. The comics, not the philosophers. Growing up we had a stack of at least half a dozen Calvin and Hobbes books, and they never got old. I only own one now, Yukon Ho, because I found it for the obscenely low price of $3.99 at Borders (moment of silence) and who can turn that down? It sits on my book shelf between Jules Feiffer's The Man in the Ceiling and my incredibly beautiful copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, given to me by my college roommate's sister. These are nonessentials. The essentials are that I got down Yukon Ho last night and my world is a better and more terrible place today.
Better because Bill Watterson is wonderful. He makes me laugh so hard that sometimes I pee a little. You didn't need to know that. It's genetic. My mom and her older sister used to gang up on my youngest aunt and tickle her so hard that...well, you don't need to know that either. Point being, Calvin and Hobbes bring happiness to my partially jaded and occasionally cynical soul. Plus, laughing burns calories, which is good because I made spice cake this week and--wooooow!
But more terrible because sometimes when I read Calvin and Hobbes it's like looking into my future. I'm serious. This is so happening to me, but instead of Calvin and Hobbes it will be my sons:
And yes, I'm already writing down all the adorable and awful things that they do (why do people always feel like they should remind me to do that?), but it doesn't help my terror level when the Man tells me stories about how, as a kid, he made cinnamon toast one morning in a pop up toaster. He just kept pouring in the cinnamon sugar because it wouldn't stick to the toast... Yeah. It also doesn't help that I've seen the havoc wrecked by my husband's seven year old sister (and my 28 year old sister for that matter). Chaos runs in the family. At least all I'm passing on to them is the inability to make it to the toilet in time. There are diapers for that sort of thing.
Calvin and Hobbes--this is what you do to me! At least it builds character, right?
Better because Bill Watterson is wonderful. He makes me laugh so hard that sometimes I pee a little. You didn't need to know that. It's genetic. My mom and her older sister used to gang up on my youngest aunt and tickle her so hard that...well, you don't need to know that either. Point being, Calvin and Hobbes bring happiness to my partially jaded and occasionally cynical soul. Plus, laughing burns calories, which is good because I made spice cake this week and--wooooow!
But more terrible because sometimes when I read Calvin and Hobbes it's like looking into my future. I'm serious. This is so happening to me, but instead of Calvin and Hobbes it will be my sons:
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| Yes, that's her jewelry box becoming buried treasure. |
Calvin and Hobbes--this is what you do to me! At least it builds character, right?
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