unday, after dinner:

Miles: When we come back from Utah, can we go to Legoland again?

Me: Who says we’re going to Utah?

Miles: [Raises his hand] I do!

pisodes of Discovery Channel’s Mythbusters start with this admonition:

Don’t try anything you see us do at home. We’re what you call experts.

 

Miles turned to Brooke and said, “Dad’s an expert!”

his flick lost me at seeing Zach Efron shoot hoops and kick up his heels within the first two minutes. I’m pretty sure I got my fill of that on the Disney Channel. Though this alternate take on Freaky Friday has its moments, 17 Again served more to remind me why I have no desire to return to high school.

Brooke doesn’t share my point of view; she enjoyed her teenage years. But she was one of the popular kids. I, on the other hand, remained indiscernible and more or less bided my time until I could quit that inverse meritocracy. I was mocked for high aspirations, forced to endure senseless glorification of two-bit athletes, and – with the exception of two or three teachers – seen as an unconvincing case and abandoned to my own devices. I suppose promptly forgetting all of it was a form of cathartic revenge.

This movie brought it all back, and I didn’t enjoy that.

PS – The inconsistencies in the character of Maggie (the daughter) left me scratching my head.

e’ve been a little slow getting out the camera lately. It seems before we can snap a picture, the twins are off getting into other trouble. But here’s one adorable shot Brooke got this week.

Isaac wasn’t feeling well (he’s now on antibiotics for an ear infection), so Brooke set up a little bed for him using a large bean bag and a pillow. Asher felt bad they couldn’t play together, so he climbed up and gave his brother a big hug instead.

rooke started serving the twins’ meals on plastic plates. I’m not sure Isaac got the idea.

hese board books are his one respite from the aggressions of his twin.

 realized after suffering through Intolerable Cruelty, that I didn’t like movies about jerks. Villains (like in Dangerous Liaisons) can be fun, but people that are thoughtlessly mean aren’t as entertaining. Bride Wars – I guess – is about two friends who get caught in competitive engagements and wind up spoiling each other’s weddings. Yawn.

It would be one thing if we were treated to the slow descent from friendship to nemesis, but instead the breakup is sudden and the bulk of the movie occurs beyond the point of no return. Boring.

About halfway through I asked Brooke, “Do you like this movie?”

“Not really, but I do want to see what happens.”

I went to the computer and watched college volleyball instead.

– Spoiler Alert –

PS – The one bride’s breakup at the end was terribly contrived and showed how shallow her character was.

sher’s throwing his weight around now. He’s just playing, but Isaac usually isn’t willing to participate.

I didn’t get a picture of this, but today Isaac was hitting a metal bowl with a plastic cup. “Bang! Bang! Bang!” Asher looked jealous, so I handed him a large serving spoon, thinking it would make a good noise. I turned and heard a “Crack!” then Isaac started crying. Asher had clubbed him on the head with the spoon.

ur first foreign film from NetFlix was the inappropriately named Avenue Montaigne, a 2006 exploration of Parisian art culture. It’s not that deep, but it is an enjoyable flick about a small town girl’s first encounters with high society.

Jessica from Mâcon lands as a waitress (unbelievably on her first day in town) at a bar that serves a concert hall, a theater, and an auction house. More unbelievably, central figures at each establishment – a pianist, an actress, an art collector and his son – confide in her their hopes and desires. (Curiously absent is haute couture. Christian Dior and Gucci are among the vendors on the same street; Prada is right next door to the bar.)

Of course, Jessica’s remarkable placement is in some ways forgivable because she serves as our eyes, giving us a familiar face. Just like we would be, she is shocked by the price of lodging, clothing, and even grapefruit juice. The plot is entertaining, if not terribly meaningful.

About the title: In French, it’s called Fauteuils d’orchestre, which means “orchestra seating.” Jessica’s position, it seems, is a front-row seat (which we learn isn’t the best place to see a show), and she must choose whether to move back from the stage. But, je ne sais pourquoi, someone decided to change the English title to the name of the street where the action is centered.