Showing posts with label Hugs and Knishes; KosherCop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hugs and Knishes; KosherCop. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Jobs, Drawings and Superpowers

"The Mock Turtle's Story" from Alice in Wonderland
Sir John Tenniel - 1865 1890 Nursery Version
So I'm going to have to rethink my entire blogging persona: KosherCook has a job. Okay, so I can live with being just a traditional Jewish family - without the modern twist.

That's right! KosherCook has a temporary position with a Jewish non-profit planning an event in November. He's off at a planning meeting tonight, so I had a whole evening alone with KosherCop, who was in rare form. He has been getting more and more sophisticatedly hilarious since starting Kindergarten and tonight was no different.

KosherCop has become quite the artist - he even carries a sketchbook to school to draw during recess. He mostly draws comics in teeny, tiny boxes. His main themes of choice include Stinky Foot Guy - a disembodied foot with eyes and squiggly lines emanating from the toes (indicating stinkyness) that goes on terrorizing rampages; "Planet Martha" which as far as I can tell is a dog in space (loosely based on PBS' Martha cartoon) that fights evil cats, eats the "happy hot dogs" (think weenies with eyes, smiles and feet) and often involve tales of a giant celestial laundry basket that answers the question of where all our missing socks have gone. The rogue socks then become an army of evil sock puppets.

After dinner this evening he shared his most recent comics with me. The stories were the same as above but he apparently has branched out and began a collaboration with a first-grader who can write and spell (although KosherCop was the first to admit that his partner's spelling was "a little backwards"). It's really an interesting partnership since KosherCop works in pen and his friend uses pencil. In some cases it looked like KosherCop inked over the pencil too, which is especially interesting since this is how real comic books are done (or so I hear from KosherCook, our resident comic book aficionado).

After he finished telling me about his artwork, I told him it was time for his shower. In true Kosher Whine fashion, he replied with the hyperbolic statement, "What, so you want to put me in a concentration camp?"

Oookaay...I guess we learned about the Holocaust in school for Yom HaShoah. I ignored his inflammatory remark and started asking him what he had learned. He then launched into an extremely convoluted history of WWII, most of which seemed to have come from his classmates - a dubious source at best. He couldn't adequately explain it to me, and kept prefacing bits of it with "this probably isn't true, but", so he decided to draw it for me.

He began with Hitler in the middle of the page wearing a crown, because he was the "guy in charge". Then came a blob with a P for Poland that he crossed out and changed to EU for Europe, despite my trying to explain that if anything it would have a G for Germany. I was told not to interrupt - he knew it wasn't going to be accurate but had no intention of taking my corrections.

Then he drew a ship which was refused at each port and drew a diagram showing the Jews' "limits" and Hitler's "limits." I asked him what he meant by limits, and he said, "The limits of their luck." Okay - good answer. The Jews' limits did indeed seem rather small compared to Hitler's.

In the end it was surpisingly accurate and culminated in Hitler shooting himself in the head. Maybe too accurate.

Eventually the history lesson was over and KosherCop was ready to take a shower.

Showertime is usually the time of day I'm most likely to get a story or information about his day. Tonight he was explaining the game he played with his friends where they were all superheroes. I liked this idea and asked what my superpower would be. I kept making suggestions and he rejected every one. Apparently, all superpowers involving air, fire, ice, and water were taken. KosherCop's was shooting lightening out of his eyes and/or hands. I couldn't choose flying, superhuman strength or the ability to talk to animals because all superheroes come standard with those features. After being shot down over and over again I let out a big sigh.

After hearing this, KosherCop remarked, "I can tell you are crestfallen." I am crestfallen, I say, but now I'm laughing. "Nice use of the word crestfallen!" I tell him. "Thank you, Mommy."

Eventually we decide we will let art imitate life and I can have a superhuman sense of smell (as well as my other senses) so I can detect dairy products that have gone bad from great distances. Tada!

Finally, it was time for our bedtime story. We have been reading "Alice in Wonderland" - not one of my favorites, but KosherCop is really enjoying the bizarreness and nonsense. We were reading about the Mock Turtle and his song about soup and the lobster quadrille dance.

When we finished, KosherCop was completely confused. I let some of my dislike of the book seep out and said, "I know - it's a crazy story. I don't know why the author wrote it."

And KosherCop very calmly told me, "Because somebody wanted to express what was in his imagination!"

Oy, do I love this kid!

Monday, August 17, 2009

Bonkers for Back-to-School

I am sitting in the middle of a giant pile of crayons and markers. There is a stack of tissue boxes in front of me, obscuring my view of the television, and I can't keep my hands off the new Spiderman thermos I just bought for KosherCop. It's shiny.

I keep wondering how old I will be before "back-to-school" stops being a time of wonder and excitement. Apparently, I am also a dork who loves school supplies.

And this time we finally have someone going back to school. KosherCop is off to kindergarten in a couple of weeks. It's not really that much of a transition - instead of going to a Jewish preschool housed in our synagogue, he will be going to a Jewish day school housed in our synagogue. The change seemed so effortless I was actually worried that I might be cheated out of all the angst mother's of 5 year olds all over the country are right this minute experiencing!

But then I went online to the new school's website and discovered there was a parent handbook to read. And supplies to purchase! And a summer reading project!

Wait - a summer reading project for kids who haven't actually started school yet? And can't read? It's really work for us parents - we have to get the books from the library, read them to our child, and fill out a log. The log doesn't even ask for their favorite part. Just title, author, and parent's signature.

Oh well. I already finished all the forms the school sent. At least I have something else to fill out.

The funny thing is that KosherCop has been less than enthused about starting this new school. None of his friends will be going there and he has spent the last year of preschool making up games that involved "making a plan to get the [elementary school] kids".

But, this past Sunday we went to Target to pick out an insulated lunch box and he had a complete change of heart. This was my pet project even before I saw the school supply list. Since the school doesn't provide refrigeration or a way to heat food (as the preschool did) I was hell-bent on keeping the bacteria at bay. This is especially hilarious considering the metal box (more on this in a moment) in which my own lunch festered each day all through elementary school.

Once he picked out the lunchbox (tan camoflouge with orange trim - I was horrified), he realized he could get pencils and erasers and his very own pencil sharpener! By the time we got home he was literally dancing around the house saying, "I'm really excited to go back to school now that I have all these new school supplies!"

Part of the reason I was so intent on KosherCop getting a lunchbox he liked was because of my own sad childhood lunchbox trauma.

Picture the scene. It's 1973 and I'm getting ready to start first grade.
We are on our way to visit relatives and it has come to my urgent attention that I need a lunchbox. Rather than take me to pick one out another time, we are parked in the parking lot of the A&P supermarket. It is raining and I'm sitting in the back seat with my two older sisters - in the middle because I'm shortest (remember the hump in the middle of the floor in the back seat of old cars?). I am not allowed to go inside.

I have, however, given my parents very simple, very specific instructions: Please get me a Brady Bunch lunch box. I am very excited about this. I love the Brady Bunch. I play Brady Bunch. I pretend there are seven of us.

After patiently waiting for several minutes I see my parents returning to the car. I can't wait to see my new lunchbox.

They get into the car and hand it to me. It is a Partridge Family lunchbox.

My parents inform me there were no Brady Bunch ones. And, well, the Partridge Family is on after the Brady Bunch. Since I watch it - along with all the other people who just finished watching the Brady Bunch and have simply left their TVs on - my parents believe this is a fitting substitute.

How can they think the Partridge Family is as good as the Brady Bunch? Maybe they aren't my real parents. Maybe I am adopted.

Note to self: Search for real family and hold a grudge for the next 36 years.

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