Oh, you're a wonder.

We've been watching a lot of Wonder Woman lately. I got Wendy the DVD set for her birthday, and we've now watched about four of the episodes. The lead is played by a wonderfully cheesy Lyle Waggoner, who in the first episode crash lands in a tropical paradise populated only by buxom young women in white tennis skirts. No wonder I spent my adolescence in a state of constant erection.

Of course, now we watch for another reason entirely. My girls are digging the feminist-light message and the kick-butt action. They've been running around the house now for a week, wearing wristbands and deflecting pretend nazi bullets. Emme loves it when Wonder Woman beats up the mean guys and throws them in the trash; Sophie just thinks she's super-cool. And with lines like "Where I was raised, I was taught that women can do anything a man can do," I suppose she's not such a bad influence.

And as many times as I hear the theme song, I can't seem to get tired of it. It must have been arranged by the same guy who did the Rocky movies, and the lyrics are seriously cool:

Wonder Woman!
Wonder Woman!

All the world is waiting for you
and the power you possess
In your satin tights
fighting for your rights
And the old red white and blue

Wonder Woman!
Wonder Woman!

Now the world is ready for you
and the wonders you can do
Make a hawk a dove
stop a war with love
Make a liar tell the truth

Wonder Woman!
Get us out from under, Wonder Woman

All our hopes are pinned upon you
and the magic that you do
Stop a bullet cold
make the axis fold
change their minds and change the world

Wonder Woman!
Wonder Woman!

You're a wonder, Wonder Woman!

My daughter is the coolest

This morning Sophie and I woke up and headed to the kitchen, our normal routine. Sometimes, if it's early enough, we both look at the clock to see how much time we have, and creep out of the house without waking anyone. We head to the coffee shop.

We both get excited at the thought, strange because I used to spend so much time at coffee shops, one in every town I've ever lived. Just me and a paper. But now it's something we do together, something that's ours. Sophie gets a cinnamon roll and eats the inside first, and I get the largest coffee they have. Her milk has a top like mine, and we sit and talk as she licks the icing off of her fingers.

This morning she asked me, "Daddy, how old do I look?" I know the answer. "Seven," I say, meaning it. She smiles and says "You look 29. How old are you?" Almost 38, I tell her. "Oh, you look 39." And I fall in love with her all over.

The measure and the Masters

I'm on the third day of recovery and feeling more confident about moving around. I have defrosted, mostly, and put the corn back in the freezer.

Yesterday, it still felt like someone had kicked me in the balls repeatedly. You know, the way it feels up inside the stomach, like something inside has been squeezed and yanked. Thankfully, that sensation has mostly subsided. The tighty-whities do help considerably, but the catgut stitches keep catching and sending firecracker jolts out the top of my head. Maybe I'll try trimming them.

I don't know yet if I am going in tomorrow or not. I suppose I could, but my students would know exactly why I wasn't there Friday when they see me walk up. Which is probably common knowledge already, of course. Small school, and most of the teachers are moms of my students.

Right now, I'm reading Romeo & Juliet, watching The Masters, and considering, just considering, a stack of papers so I won't feel guilty.

The Levee

The other day we went to the levee and slid down the hill on a cardboard toboggan (aka waxy appliance box). The girls were fantastic. All three wanted to go by themselves, and did with some help. Olivia bumped down on her own booty when the sled was occupied, saying "weeeee" all the way to the bottom. Two hours of kid heaven.

They made me proud of their adventurous spirit. It fills me with such unbelievable joy (and pride), seeing all of them together like this; I can only hope that they maintain some semblance of the relationship they have now for the rest of their lives. Think how lucky they would be.



The only downside: I split my best pants right down the middle. Daddy's a bit of a doofus; I hope it takes them a while to realize that much.