Shhh... don't tell mommy I'm writing this-- I'm supposed to be in bed, but I'm just too excited about my first-ever sleepover. Gram and I have had a kick-ass time so far. In addition to the usual cars, trucks, trains and torture (of the pets), we got to make a pizza...

...make clown ice cream sundaes...

...and get into our PJs (notice the black and green ones that are soft like Margie) and tell our deepest, darkest secrets through our anthropomorphic stuffed animals...


Like any good sleepover, the best part comes after mommy and daddy think we're asleep. That's when I called for the pillow fight. Awwww yee-ah.

I have lots of questions about the facts of life as they relate to my impending sister, which mommy is very accommodating about answering. For example:

Me: Why are people born small and get big?
Mommy: Well, it would be pretty hard for mommies to have babies in their bellies if they started out big.
Me: Yeah, if they're as big as daddy their heads and arms would stick right out of your vagina. (waves arms for effect)

So I'm actually starting to read now. Y'know, phonics and all that. This is a huge breakthrough, and it's really opened up my mind to some of the world's great literature:

Dog has on a rag hat indeed...

While I'm at it, here's a portrait I drew of my family in a cross-section of daddy's car:

Yes, I realize it's not very safe driving in a bisected car. But look-- I'm in my carseat in the back, so I'm safe.

Christmas day started on an ominous note, with a beast of a fever. But my illness was cured by the greatest panacea known to modern medicine: sweet-ass presents. I was good this year, and Santa was good to me:

I can now ring up all of your Dora-related purchases.

My barn door is open! Nyuk nyuk nyuk...

The piece de resistence-- my own fake kitchen. I heard Santa yelling for a couple of hours last night about which pieces fit into which... I guess he must have had his reindeer help assemble it in my living room.

Of course, it wasn't all about the getting. I gave my mom this killer plate that I helped design:

Check it out! Triangles are my favorite shape.

Here's the whole motley Christmas crew. We did it up pretty well for a bunch of (mostly) lapsed Jews:


I'm just about recovered from my ailment, which kept me lounging around the house in the same pair of pajamas (the ones that are soft like Margie) for three days. I'm almost at 100%, although a few more presents might put me over the top.

I realize that the big payoff is tonight when Santa climbs into our gas-powered fireplace with my loot. But there's been plenty of Christmas spirit in the last few days. First, I made the obligatory trip to visit Santa, whose "listening tour" (just like our prez) took him to C-ville. After letting him know that I want a kitchen, a barn and a veterinarian kit, I instructed Santa to kiss Splashie:

Kiss him! Right on his big ol' whale lips!

Then we all gathered in for a group picture:

Santa asked mommy to sit on his other knee. I think he got kind of pissed off after mommy declined. Sort of understandable... I mean, weeks on tour without the loving touch of Mrs. Claus can make a man ask for things he might not otherwise ask for. And besides, everyone's asking so much of him this time of year. He probably wants to get a little back.

Perhaps more in the true spirit of Christmas was the great gingerbread house decoration of 2006. This monumental project is best portrayed in before/after format:

...and...


After that, everyone left our house. And it was up to me to do the cleanup work:

It's a hard job, but somebody has to do it.

I had my last day of preschool for 2006 this past Wednesday, which means three weeks without the love of my life. This is a serious crush. I always make sure I sit next to her at snack time and circle time, and have been known to throw a tantrum if one of my rivals gets to that coveted seat first. I'll call her "Jane" here in case she reads this blog and gets all creeped out. Anyway, at the beginning of last week I decided I wanted to do something holiday spirited for her:

Me: Mom, can I give a Christmas gift to Jane?
Mom: Sure, we can give Jane a Christmas gift.
Me: And I also want to make her a Valentine.
Mom: Well, It's not really time for Valentine's Day yet.
Me: But... I love her.

Your "save-the-date" cards should be coming in the mail shortly.

US State Capitals

OK, it's so on between me and this kid. Wherever you are, I challenge you to a capital-off-- WITHOUT the flash cards you're reading off of. And anyway, he doesn't even know the capital of Minnesota. Poser.

Lest you think this blog has been a bit Jesus-centric for a kid named Eli Kaplowitz, I'll have you know that I've been celebrating my paternal roots as well. I brought home the following masterpiece from preschool:

I think I was trying to write "Just Jew It"...

Although Christmas did have a great big diarrhea attack in our house a few weeks ago, Mom has introduced a token Hebraic tradition to stem the flow:

I give this menorah a solid 4 candles out of 9.

I've also learned some fine Hannukah music which I have been happy to perform for whoever will listen: "Dreidel dreidel dreidel, I made it out of play!" (repeat ad nauseum)

Mommy and I tried to go for a more avant-garde Christmas picture this year-- not sure if it worked artistically:


More enjoyable was the aftermath:

Mom was cleaning the office yesterday and found the following letter:



What great advice! Especially the part about listening to your family. I'm sure the author of the letter is well-informed on this, since he grew up to be president and all.

Planets may be the new state capitals, but I certainly will never confuse the two. Dad and I had the following conversation this afternoon:

Dad: Eli, what's the capital of Saturn?
Me: (laughing) Saturn doesn't HAVE a capital.
Dad: Really? Why not?
Me: Because it doesn't have a star on it!

Good luck trying to pull one over on Eli.

Finally, the eagerly-awaited Thanksgiving pictures. There were a number of good ones, but I'll focus on the highlights-- our inexplicable trip from one zoo (grandma and grandpa's house) to another zoo.

In an effort to combat global warming (note the t-shirts), we took public transportation:

Once at the zoo, we blended in nicely...

Please don't feed us, ladies and gentlemen.

The best part by far was riding the animals with Andrew and Claire.:

Zoos (and animals) are so much more visitor-friendly than I remembered back in the day.

Of course, not all of the critters were so accommodating. I let these otters know what I thought of their uncooperativeness:

Perhaps my gesture would have been more suited for the bird house... ha ha ha.

Before we left, we had a summit to determine what we were going to have for dinner that night:

It's nice to know that my generation sees eye-to-eye on these matters...

We also visited the Air and Space Museum, which promptly touched off a new obsession to replace the 50 states: the planets! I've spent the last few days scattering the house with various celestial bodies:

Here's Earth and Pluto. Pluto is the red one.

Lastly, I've been dealing with a bit of a winter health crisis-- the irrepressible urge to wipe my shnozz with my sleeve. The habit has resulted in some battle scars:

No, I'm not blushing.

Mom's solution has been to threaten me with putting lotion on my face if she catches me in mid-wipe. I have her fooled, though. I do all of my wiping while turned away from her. She still hasn't figured it out yet... sucker! I hope she doesn't read this blog or the jig is up.

Apparently, I have driven Monty to the sauce.

Yesterday, a bottle of Maker's Mark on top of our fridge tipped over and spilled about 1/4 of its contents onto the floor, where, unbeknownst to us, Monty eagerly lapped it up. I first noticed something was wrong when Monty was much more compliant in my usual torture. Also, he was walking sideways and smelled like whiskey.

Monty sobered up after puking a few times. The bottle was secured, so there was no rallying after the booting occurred. All in all, a good lesson about the dangers of canine alcohol abuse.

We're getting the camera back today, so the blog will shortly be returning to full color.

I heard daddy come home and go up to his office to drop off his school stuff. Then the following exchange:

Mom: Go upstairs, Daddy's dying to see you.
Me: (running upstairs) Daddy, are you dying?

It turns out he's not dying, which makes me wonder why mommy lies to me all of the time.

Still no camera yet, so hold your horses on Thanksgiving pictures. I just wanted to let everyone know that if they've been victimized by (or merely witnessed) bad behavior by yours truly, you will be happy to find out that I've decided to do penance. I've decided that whenever I don't share or throw a tantrum, I need to eat something called paskiskos. It's a mix of apples, pears, bananas, mushrooms, salt and pepper. Mommy made me some paskiskos, which I gobbled up (except for the mushrooms). It's like a delicious version of the cat-o-nine-tails.