Monday, February 9, 2009
Anita tagged me to:
1. Go to the 4th folder where you keep your pictures on your computer.
2. Post the 4th picture in the folder
3. Explain the photo.
4. Tag 4 fellow bloggers to join in the fun
And oh, boy, wouldn't it just be a bizarre, in-joke of a family photo that I have to post?!?!
Ahhhh, yes. That would be Logan, age 6, dashing after a peacock at the zoo this past September. Yes, we know that he's too old to be terrorizing a peacock. And no, we don't actually let him catch it, don't worry. But see ... Logan has been chasing peacocks in this zoo--probably this very same peacock, truth be known-- since he was two years old.
The first time, it was one of those toddler things; Logan saw the peacock lounging in a sunny spot, he decided to investigate and pooof! Mr. Peacock gave Logan the show that was supposed to make him run for cover: a zillion black eyes dancing in a sea of blue and gold. But Logan was has never been faint of heart, and rather than make for the hills, he crept closer, and closer and closer, until he was nearly atop the bird. I snatched him away before the peacock could get pecky (which I'm assuming they'll do, even though I've never heard of a peacock attack). But a few months later on our next zoo visit, the peacock seemed to be instantly wary of Logan. As if remembering the boy who had nearly ruffled his feathers, the thing pounced into full display and high tailed it for the nearest wooded area with Logan trailing behind.
Now, in normal families, this would be a funny, one-shot story. But we are not--you may have guessed--a normal family. We are what you might call Traditionalists. This is not to say that we are exceptionally traditional in our take on things; as a matter of fact, we tend to swim upstream rather vigorously. No, what we are is a family that makes traditions. Essentially, if something happens more than twice, it's a tradition. Once it's established as a tradition, it's irrevocable and must be continued, ad naseum, until ... well, the end of time, I guess. We call it family culture and figure in the end it's something our children can reject outright in their own adulthoods. Right now, we call the shots and we think it's hilarious.
We inherited this quirky state of being in part from Mr. Blanding's family, along with the snot ornaments on our Christmas tree (don't ask) and a habit of quoting movies so often that our children actually think that we're the witty ones. They're in for a real disappointment some day when they watch Monty Python and "Big Trouble in Little China." Thankfully, they play along with the whole tradition thing and even throw out movie lines on their own, though they often have no clue of the context. (Jo will report that her rabbits have terrible, terrible teeth. Someday, Jo. Someday ...)
And thus it has gone for four long years: we visit the zoo. Logan spots the peacock. I grab the camera. The peacock flees. Logan gives chase. I snap a photo. And tradition is safe for another season.
And now, I do hereby bequeath the honor of the tag to:
1. Dawn Sodini
2. Tara Rison
3. Obladi Oblada
4. Robin's Reports