THE JACKPACK

Today, I assumed my alternate, more studly persona, Incognito Man.  It was after lunch, and I had a rendezvous with destiny.  However, that all depended on the completion of an ultra-super-duper-highly-classfiied-secret-"touch it, you die" mission.  I commenced that mission at 13:35 (Korean Time).  ("Mission Impossible" theme song in the background.....) I made sure that Lady Fun-Dissipater was busy, looking the other way.  Then, I went for it.  Unfortunately, I crashed and burned.  And, this time, I really crashed and burned.  Man, that secret laptop must have been rigged with the top-of-the-line security devices.  Someone must have put laser beam sensors in the glass tabletop.  Someone must have tampered with my socks.  Someone must have put a mysterious slippery substance all over the glass tabletop.  Sabatoge!!!  Incognito Man: temporarily out of commission but will return.  No doubt, I will return and com...

Finally, I can call myself an American without feeling like a fraud.  Sheesh.  The delay in fully realizing my national consciousness/awareness was Mom's fault -- completely.  And, while she claims her half-Polishness is partially to blame, that's wrong.  I know for a fact that my uncles were never as delayed as I was in becoming a true, honest-to-goodness, red-blooded, patriotism-breathing "American."  So, that means my grandmother did her part, even though she was full-Polish.  You're wondering how the heck Mom completely messed up the first six months of my second year as a so-called American.  Well, she failed to introduce me to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches until just now.  Do you know how old I am?  I'm nineteen months, and I was nineteen months and one day before I ever had a real mcoyster PBJ sandwich.  Ok, to give Mom credit, I have had peanut butter, apple pie, cheetohs, chicken-fried steak, okra, mashed potatoes, and ...

In addition to the previously mentioned words, I'm adding: Moon Tree (trEE) Goat Cat (Cat) Bird (bir) Red Car (Rrrree Caar) Pie Bonk (as in bonk your head) Wall Pants No Bath (No Path....basically used for "I don't want ......" For example, if I don't want to hold Mom's hand across the street, "No path.") Chair Kids Play: (as in play with me) Koparka (park) : Polish for tractor Concept of "Yes" established.  I can now answer in the affirmative by nodding my head.... Amazing concept.  I will tell you when I want water, pizza, or a car. 

You got that right.  I am.  After today, I know that I am destined to accomplish great things, and there is nothing more satisfying than knowing that nothing can stop me. And, you know how I figured that out? Well, today, after nap, Mom and I decided to make a trip to the playground.  We walked out the door of our apartment building, and that's when it hit me.  No, not my pure "amazingness" but the stench.  It was Eau de Korea but an all-new concentrated version rated a 10 on the stench factor scale: an exquisite combination of rotting flesh, pig farm, and canine anal glands. [A Texas feedlot smells like a fresh batch of homemade cinnamon rolls in comparison.] I know what you're thinking, "Jack, come on.  Stop exaggerating."  Oh, I wish I were.  Now, you're probably also wondering whether I hurled, passed out, or ran back inside screaming like a little girl.  Neither of...

So, I woke up from nap today, and lo and behold, this was sitting on the table.  I thought to myself, "Oh, Jack, you have hit the mega-millions jackpot today, buddy!  Snacktime just took on platinum.  Oh my gosh, that's an oreo crust covered in rich chocolate topped with chocolate mousse and smothered in fluffy, yummy, delicious, teeth-rotting, cellulite-feeding, double-chin inducing, heart-clogging deliciousness.  It's got to be criminal."  Then, Mom got out the grapes, "Now, Jack, that's for tomorrow when Dad comes home.  If you eat a good dinner tomorrow, you can have some."  "Really?  Seriously?  Are you kidding me?  I get grapes?!?!?!?!?!?!?"  Snack time is supremely overrated!  Put that thing in the refrigerator already.

--  Wake up and eat a banana crumb muffin --  Play with trucks -- Go to lunch with buddies at chilis, eat nothing but french fries and ketchup -- Go to BX playground and play with buddies and more buddies, realize that I can now climb up onto the jungle gym by myself, go down slide a million times, run around like a maniac -- Eat an entire Baskin Robbins kiddie scoop of chocolate peanut-butter chunk ice cream -- Refuse to take a nap Don't you wish you remembered the last time you ate nothing but french fries and chocolate peanut-butter chunk ice cream for lunch?!  Now, that's what I call quality food.  [Unfortunately, I think there's going to be some "leveling" at dinnertime, which might include a helping of vegetables and what's otherwise known as "wholesome" food. ]

Yeah, yeah, so I hear about the insane winter storm that's been plaguing the entire US of A, and believe me, I'm impressed with the stories I'm hearing.  Sheesh.  But, let's put that aside for a second and ponder the winter that I've been surviving.  Just imagine a mother born and raised in Texas where snow and freezing temperatures are uncommon and where everyone has a backyard and where you pretty much can go outside any day of the year.  Now, just imagine that mother being stuck in an apartment building in a polluted country with non-stop freezing/below freezing temperatures for a good two to three months out of the winter.  You got that right, folks.  I'm talking temperatures that do not get above twenty degrees for eight weeks straight.  And, twenty is the high.  Yeah, you can imagine why I'm about to go insane.  Well, one of my mom's best friends must use telepathy or something because out of the blue, a box showed up in the mail. ...

On Sunday afternoon, I met up with my buddies Owen and Ava for some bowling.  The base bowling alley also has a great indoor playground.  So, I'd bowl a bit with Dad and wait for my turn while running like a maniac in the play area.  As if things couldn't get better, Mom and Dad ordered some good ol' greasy bowling alley food.  DELISH!  I had half of Mom's grilled chicken sandwich and a good helping of her french fries.  Yum.  Guy's gotta eat when he's expending that much energy.  And, yes, you got that right.  I'm wearing my studly dudly Lightning McQueen shirt with my studly dudly Lightning McQueen socks.  And, yes, I'm a slave to Disney's marketing ploys.  You would be too if you watched the "cleverness" that is Pixar's Cars.

**ATTENTION** Due to forces beyond my control, that is, a mom who can't seem to find the time/energy to get the computer set up for me, I haven't been able to update you on my latest and greatest.  Patience is a virtue (like I know what patience is).  (Ok...Locke and Mountbatten think that I should be banned from writing/saying the word "patience" until I can calmly wait for my breakfast in the morning.)