Mom vs. Dad

Mother's Day and Father's Day are quite different.

On Mother's Day, mother's spend as much time possible relaxing and trying not to lift a finger. On Father's Day, the 3 Chicago Maidys spent time being out and about - shopping, bookstore, going to visit Grandpa Park, going through the car wash (Jack's first), etc.

But I think Alex quite enjoyed himself because we were doing one of his favorite things - hanging out with Jack! As Jack gets older and bigger, it is easier to take him places and it's more fun! Jack loves riding in the shopping cart and deciding which things he should grab off the shelf and put directly into his mouth.

And that was just in the morning hours!

In the afternoon, we came back home, grilled up some lunch/dinner (Alex grilled as I am afraid of any kinds of open fire) and hung out with the Lims and my mother.

Yes, you may think it's funny that Alex grilled/cooked some of his own Father's Day meal, but just so everyone knows, I took care of all the preparation (marinade for the chicken, the rice salad, potatoes, dessert).

Afterwards, I fell asleep on the couch while Alex finished up some laundry! :-)

Father's Day was 'invented' to celebrate great dads everywhere, and Alex is definitely one of the greatest.

Broke Down In Boca

Alex is a typical guy - he loves gadgets, he loves sports, he types with three fingers, and he needs help dressing every now and then (e.g. wrinkled pants and shirt to work is NOT an option). But during our vacation to Boca Raton, FL, I realized not only is he a typical guy, but he is a 12 year old guy who has never packed a suitcase in his life.

He has been using a suitcase my father-in-law purchased decades ago for work travel. I must say, the damn thing has stood up against time pretty well. However, the trip to Florida was to be it's last voyage anywhere no thanks to Alex's INability to pack efficiently. I don't think this guy could play Tetris to save his life.

Nothing is folded neatly, nothing is placed geometrically, and everything is everywhere. Despite the fact Alex only packed 4 outfits (for a guy this consists of 3 T-shirts, and two shorts - I'm not sure how the math works out, but he manages somehow), when we were packing to come back to Chicago his suitcase was busting at the seams - literally!

The zipper ripped off from the suitcase itself (this was probably caused by Alex's 'caveman' way of trying to use force over mental consideration when the damn thing wouldn't close). But instead of seeing that the life of this suitcase was over, Alex continued to 'fight' his luggage to get the zipper closed, and then somehow miraculously get the zipper to adhere back to the suitcase. Sigh, sigh and double sigh.

I had to intervene. I could not watch the wrestling match any longer. I asked him to stop fighting, wipe the beads of sweat from his caveman brows, open the suitcase and step back. He of course did none of the above. I had to intervene with a little more force. I began walking over to his suitcase and open the darn thing myself. Alex broke out in a sheepish grin and tried to stop me, "No, I've got this, you don't need to do anything!"

How could T-shirts and shorts do this? I demanded he let me see the contents of his suitcase. NOTHING was folded. EVERYTHING was just crammed inside - sandals, camcorder, one flip flop, books, and toiletries all haphazardly 'placed' inside. It looked like a gorilla had tried to pack his bag 32 times before giving up in search of food.

"This suitcase is done for, Alexander. You cannot use this, it'll fall apart when it's being handled by baggage claims." I said.
"No, it'll be fine."
"No, it won't. You need a new suitcase."

My father-in-law does quite a bit of traveling for work, so he was able to lend us a bigger suitcase. "Thank goodness!" I thought. Maybe the bigger bag will be conducive to Alex's packing strateegery. I was wrong.

Alex dumped the broken suitcase with it's contents inside the bigger suitcase. Alex is a typical guy.

(I repacked his suitcase anyway)