Ho. Ho. Ho. Round 2.

Seeing as Young Old's previous experience with Christmas consisted mainly of being stuffed in a giant sock, we thought we'd give it a proper go this time around. As you can see in the following images, he met the barrage of symbols, lights, and gifts with almost a detached boredom, as if he were saying, "This is OK, but next time I think I'd rather just skip the big to-do, lay low, run around naked, and drink bottled beverages." Yep, he's taking after his father already.

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Neither Mama K or myself had ever done the whole Macy's WinterwonderlandsitonSanta'slap-thing. We'd heard from other parents that it is THE Christmas event. They practically prepare for it year-round...and almost had us convinced, too. We arrived, bathed in all the intricate light displays, and cued up to get some one-on-one time with Santa (I needed to let the Big Guy know to put a laptop on my list). Then we got to talking with the other folks in line; apparently, the wait can take up to five hours (FIVE!), and the photos cost, at minimum, the same amount as a kidney replacement. Um, fuck you, Santa. Young Old looked frightened anyway, so we bounced. Don't think this shall become part of the tradition going forth...

Our cute little tree. Don't mind the naked gnome blocking your view.

Thanks for the milk and cookies, bud. The orange was a nice treat, performing double duty in preventing scurvy during the long journey, and helping to trigger diabetic attacks. I love those. The note needs work, though, pal. -Santa [Click on the image to get a bigger, more readable image, if interested. -Ed.]

That "Ho, ho, ho" is pretty terrifying, kid. I probably shouldn't have let him watch Silent Night, Deadly Night.


This book wasn't nearly as good as I remember.


Away in the manger. [One of my favorite photos of the two of us. Thanks, Renze, for gifting this to Young Old. -Ed.]

Props to Santa for being ecologically-minded with the recycled plastic, BPA-free place settings, though I'm sure it was mandated by some agency to offset the methane output of your reindeer squad. Thanks, anyway; he loves them.


"I think I'm getting the hang of this. Here, let me open all of your gifts, too, Mom."

The three Magi (Auntie Ren, Uncle Train and Grandma Alaska) arrived to shower The Boy with gifts. He wasn't too sure what to make of all that frankincense and myrrh, but thought it best to deposit the gold in a college savings account.

Okay, okay, okay. So maybe he did have a good time. Cleaning up, that is. We've trained him well.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 35

GWAR! GWAR! GWAR!

Young Old recruited my assistance in building his Radio Flyer wagon, cementing his reputation as an effective overseer. Thanks go out to the Cali crew for this wonderful gift.

The Young Don Juan flirting with our friend Ina...

...then turning around and directing his efforts at her daughter, Coco. Scandalous, Son, scandalous.

Young Old treated his pal Nessa Bug to a fine dining experience comprised of frozen peas and tater-tot casserole. Truly classy.

What beautiful people. I'm a lucky man.

This reminds me of those childhood photos of serial killers that, in hindsight, probably should have clued in their parents to the future that lay ahead.

Naked hang out is Young Old's favorite activity these days. We're prepping him for our summer trip to the Olive Dell Ranch. [Seriously kidding. Nudists are fucking creepy. -Ed.]

Reminds me of that scene from A Christmas Story.
Randy: I can't put my arms down!
Mother: Well... put your arms down when you get to school.

Young Old's first snowman/-woman/-person. He had a blast eating it's abdomen, then spent the next week whining about his frostbitten lips. Can't have it all, kiddo.

Take a Walk in My Shoes

Or don't...
I'll totally support you, Son, in following your own footsteps, if such a thing becomes possible. I think you need to, um, time travel, or something.

Our Little Earbud

Let's just hope the perfect parenting he's showered with on a near-constant basis counteracts this brief exposure to old school Triple 6 Mafia.

Buhloone Mindstate

"it might blow up but it won't go pop" -De La Soul, one of Young Old's favorite groups.

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 18

Prince Valiant at eighteen months:

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 17

Young Old looking absolutely money at seventeen months:

The Pocket Dance

The latest dance sensation to sweep the nation.

Don't hesitate, just gyrate.

Auntie Ren's Wedding

So far, this is my favorite photo of Young Old. Perfectly captures the ancient soul lurking beneath his drooling, mumbling, yet utterly adorable facade.

Auntie Ren calming a furious Young Old after the photographer's assistant made a disparaging remark about the Little Folk. Easy there, buddy.

To cut down on costs, Auntie Ren and Uncle Train hosted their wedding at the nearby train tracks. Young Old kept yelling "Choooooo chooooooooo!!!" throughout the entire ceremony. It was hilarious. Seriously though, it was a beautiful wedding, you two. Congrats.

"Step on a leaf, loosen your Daddy's teeth. Man, this is going to be hard..."

Our familial unit getting our photo snuggle on.

Priceless.

Before the big event, Young Old took the opportunity to push crusty food-laden carts around the parking lot and make automobile noises. Dude, this isn't Arkansas.

A dashing Young Old (shirking his duties as ring bearer) escorting his radiant Mama K down the aisle.

The Debonair One charming the ladies. Seriously, parents, please keep an eye on your daughters when Young Old is visiting. We're not looking to be grandparents anytime soon.

Bedtime, Mama.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 34

Young Old went through a phase where he was devouring his books. If the old adage is true, he's either going to be a literary genius, or a fish.

Young Old is showing an increasing proclivity for Evel Knievel-like stunts. If we can keep him away from motorcycles and man-rockets, he should be fine.

Enjoying some time out on the back deck. No matter the weather, this dude hates being cooped up inside.

Young Old very carefully decorating a letter to Grandma Alaska.

Getting some quality time in with Uncle Danpa.

Our very own whirling dervish hipster.

Young Old soaking in the sights at the Japanese Garden in Portland with his Auntie Marie. We subsequently had to "rescue" him from his very intentional dive into the koi pond.

Young Old loves him some basketball, or baball as he's taken to calling it. Go 'Zers.

Nerd match. I won.

Papa Old and Mama K celebrating some much-needed baby-free time at a friend's murder mystery birthday party. Thanks to Uncle Scott and Aunt Ali for the assist.