Ralph might have started the game of Blanket Monster, but Phoenix Fire ended it. By clocking her father in the face with the rather rugged and heavy phony-Christmas-tree cardboard box. The way Ralph tells it Phoenix rather reluctantly gave up her hopes and dreams of a normal life, but with a practicality and thoroughness that is so trademark to her sensible nature. “Well, I used to have a daddy, but now he’s a relentless Blanket Monster, so I’d better kill the sonovabitch.” Ralph describes “blinding white light” and staggering to the bathroom where he staunched the flow of bloody nose while our daughter apologized with sincere but pragmatic gravitas. Fucker was pulling them under the blankets by their legs, afterall. “Tickle torture isn’t funny,” she tells me later standing with a towel wrapped around her reedlike body, her freckles standing at attention under a seal-wet post-bath noggin.
Later as we left for a date our daughter calls, “Take care of your nose, daddy!” She means it in a cheerful and loving way but it kinda sounds like a veiled threat.
We got home and later discovered a bunch of items on my Mac. Some intentional video – (I think Flickr cut out some of the artistic differences our children discuss at the end of the film)…
and some unintentional (Ding Dong!):
Both of those videos are precious 🙂 The way Nels appears out of nowhere is so surprising yet seemingly perfectly unscripted, and it warms my heart to see how casually cuddly Phoenix and Nels are with each other. It warms my tummy to see anyone eating Chocolate Cakey Stuff! YAY 🙂
There were about twenty videos on my computer from this batch, some of them with music and many without; it was hard to pick!
The way Nels so tenderly sings Justin Beiber songs and treats the subject material seriously is truly one of those things that can bring me up from a pit of mental despair. I felt the same way you describe, watching the way the kids were being so casually affectionate… When Nels is obscured behind Phoenix she is singing to him and stroking his hair.
“Ralph might have started the game of Blanket Monster, but Phoenix Fire ended it.” and “Later as we left for a date our daughter calls, â€œTake care of your nose, daddy!â€ She means it in a cheerful and loving way but it kinda sounds like a veiled threat.”
…both sound like terrific hooks for a short story (fictional or otherwise) or essay involving parent-child playfulness and/or introspective musings on family life in general. I think these images and words are captivating because they deeply reflect the individuality and authenticity of both Ralph and Phoenix, an actual father and daughter engaged in meaningful real-life interactions.