The World’s Greatest… What?

Rooftop Santa and his eight little buddies have been back in storage for weeks.  As are the boxes of ornaments, bells and other seasonal accoutrement Carrie uses to deck our halls.  The thank you notes were sent and the sweet-smelling hunk of kindling was laid on the sidewalk over a month ago.  There remains one gift, perched menacingly on my dresser, that I can’t bring myself to throw away, give away or put to use in one fashion or another.

2005

The series of events was set in motion when the kids were little.  The twins were four years old and the little guy two and a half.  A perfect age for our family to be settled in the family room watching Beauty and the Beast.  Our chocolate lab, Charlie, sauntered into the room to join the fun.  Charlie is unalterably opposed to television and refuses to watch so he just sat down looking at us.  I was watching intently, all cued up to belt out my favorite line from “Gaston”, “I’m especially good at expect-o-ra-ting…” so was caught completely off guard when one of the kids asked, “Oooh, what is THAT?”  To which another answered, “It’s, it’s, it looks like a witch’s finger!”  Charlie sat there with a big dumb dog smile on his face and a matching indicator of glee on the southerly end.  Terrific.  Gaston is out, it’s time for the birds and bees, this time with a dash of veterinary flavoring.

The term “witch’s finger” actually became useful.  The kids could use the term, Carrie and I would know what they were referring to but dinner guests, for example, would remain delightfully uninformed.  This also proved convenient in sidestepping boundless embarrassment at the dog park.  But life moves on, kids get older and certain situations lose their novelty.  Fortunately.

2015

In November of 2015, we found ourselves without a family picture suitable for a Christmas card.  So it was that Carrie and her camera were on the back lawn attempting to shoot – with the camera – three nicely dressed kids (no small feat) and two recalcitrant retrievers.  Two of the kids were arguing feverishly, with the third child failing to produce even a serviceable smile.  The dogs wanted to know when someone was finally going to throw a ball.  As for me, I would be dismissed with prejudice from a remedial photography course, so my presence was not required.  When Carrie did summon me, I knew something was terribly amiss.  “Would you please make them laugh so I can get this picture?” she pleaded.

Judging from her bold italic “please”, I knew I’d have some latitude here.  It took a minute but eventually came to me.  “It’s too bad we can’t attach the camera to Charlie’s witch’s finger”, I said.  “Because then we’d have the world’s first Christmas card photo taken with a selfie-dick.”

It turns out that I over shot the mark just a bit.  The boys couldn’t stand up straight, one of them turning a color of red matching the sign that says “Emergency Room” at the hospital.  My daughter even spun in a circle laughing and Carrie, who would normally point out how incredibly inappropriate my comment was, had to turn away so the kids couldn’t see her face.  Probably my proudest moment.  Eventually posture was regained, noses wiped and the progeny photographed.

2016

Last summer we took the kids to New York City for the first time and hit all the tourist spots.  One of these was the top of Rockefeller Center.  We weren’t the only ones with this idea.  On the observation deck one must wait – for quite a while, it’s worth noting – for a chance to stand against the edge wall and take a picture.  This wait is made longer by those who feel compelled to get pictures of themselves from every conceivable angle using, that’s right, their selfie-sticks.  When at last our turn came we began moving into position when a pack of manic millennials armed with their own egoistic extenders barged into the space and began posing and snapping.  I threw up my hands and pleaded (loudly) with my family, “if you ever catch me with a selfie stick, will you kindly rip it from my hands and beat me to death?!?”  A member of the pack actually apologized, though I think the apology was negated by the eye roll.  I really do need to look into one of those millennial communications decoder rings.

Naturally, Santa brought me my very own selfie stick.  It sits smugly on the dresser, just daring me to do anything with it.  I know what it definitely won’t be used for.  It could make an excellent backscratcher but Carrie really has great fingernails.  I would use it to “goose” a giraffe but the kids seem to have outgrown the zoo.  Please share any ideas, the nuttier the better!