Category: about my family

It’ll always be “Chiji’s” to me (and my son?)

This morning Benjamin told us there was no eye in chiji. It took a while before we realized he meant the letter ”I” and not an “eye — ”no, the i with a dot in it!” After some more forensic analysis, it became obvious he has confused the letter “L” with the letter “I” and had heard me calling “Chili’s” “Chiji’s.”

A couple months ago, while exploring the various malls of Oakland, we stopped by Applebee’s and had a disappointing meal: the service and food quality were terrible, and the prices — even after living in the City for the 15+ years —weren’t going to make up for it.

A couple weeks ago, I showed M— this video on Kevin Hochman’s Chili’s turnaround, and we’ve been looking for an opportunity to check out those changes.

Yesterday, after a hike near Mt. Diablo, due to the right combination of appetite and proximity, we finally got that opportunity.

When we got there, I was immediately struck by the logo no longer being spelled “Chiji’s” which is apparently how it ear-wormed its way into my four-year-old’s head. (The logo changeover happened 14 years ago which gives you an idea of how frequently I’ve patronized the casual sit-down dining market in the years I lived in San Francisco.)

We split an order of the Triple Dipper because of the memes and M— also introduced me to the queso dip with nachos because that and margaritas were what she would have with her girlfriend after work back when they were both just starting out in their careers and were poor. (M— has been spoiled by SF non-blended margaritas in the city so now the iconic Chili’s margaritas — made the way they like it in the ‘burbs and to hit the lower price point — are now way too sweet.) For us, even after hiking in the sun for a few hours, even that abbreviated meal was rich enough that we both skipped dinner and got our fix in for a while. (M— had to explain to Benjamin what “too rich” means in that context.)

M— mentioned this morning that Brian Niccol (now CEO of Starbucks) and Kevin Hochman worked together at Proctor & Gamble. Their turnarounds (Taco Bell, Chipotle, Starbucks and Yum Brand, Chili’s) bear a similarity that is in marked contrast to other leaders in the space, as well as CEOs in general. But that discussion is probably for another time. You can “do your own research” as the red-caps are fond of saying.

Posted on by tychay 0

#4yearolds

From another parent:

But now he just launches into diatribes about how we’re so mean and we don’t let him do anything and we’re hateful people because we didn’t let him keep watching Bluey after the agreed upon number was watched

Yesterday, Benjamin, in tears, was yelling at me that mommy definitely MEANT to hit him with her purse, it was no accident, and she’s totally a meany for doing so.

But then, one hour later, I saw them on the couch together as he directed M— what they should build in their Minecraft world on the Switch.

For the last few months, most every night before bed, I ask Benjamin what his “successes” were that day. It’s a fun little ritual that devolves mostly into a time where he watches the text-to-speech write some pretty weird stuff in DayOne that I have to manually correct later. (He then demands that I text it to mommy and have Siri read back that text to us.)

Yesterday, M— put him to bed and I got this text from her:

His successes: “I didn’t tell daddy my successes because they were all about you.

  1. we got to play Minecraft
  2. we saw enderman!
  3. we saw creepers”

Surprisingly, no mention on how mommy is the worst. 😀

Posted on by tychay 0

Being part of the Pac

My four year old loves to drop the knowledge bombs. (“Don’t you mean knowledge BATH BOMBS, daddy? Haa ha!”)

Most of it is about Minecraft (facts about Enderman and TNT) or Super Mario (Dry Bones and Madame Grape) none of which I know anything about because I am culturally backward when it comes to video games (“Bath Bob-ombs, Daddy. Haa ha!”). But very once in a while I still get a peek into the deep logic that child has naturally.

My dad’s house is in the Pacific Beach neighborhood of San Diego: Pac Beach or PB for short. When she was alive, my mom, who had a heart condition for nearly her entire life, loved the walking along the beach in PB or falling asleep to the waves crashing in La Jolla Cove and I want to share those experiences with Benjamin. After we ate lunch, we started to heading to the beach.

“Where are we, daddy?”

“We are in Pac Beach.”

“No, we are in Pac!”

“Huh?”

“Over there is the beach, so this part must be ‘Pac.’”

(It’s hard to argue with this logic: another Benjamin knowledge bath bob-omb gets dropped on me.)

Posted on by tychay 0

A baby’s sense of order

This morning, Benjamin and I had to get a blood test. I guess this makes us blood brothers.

Ready to go out

It’s been about 8 years since my last test. Now that Benjamin is one year old, his pediatrician wants him tested for lead as a precaution since housing in San Francisco can date back to when paint and pipes had lead.

When getting him ready for the visit, I got him dressed. He started repeating “sosh” when I was putting on his socks. I mistakenly thought the lab could get a sample from his foot, so I skipped putting on his shoes.

He saw me pick up his sandals, and ran at me yelling “shoosh!” But when I dropped them in his diaper bag, he wasn’t having it at all. He associates his “shoosh” with going out, thought this meant I was leaving without him, and started crying.

It took all of five seconds, but that was five seconds too long for my son.

…

Continue reading about adventures in blood testing after the jump

Posted on by tychay 1

An ass-kicking

One year ago today:

Marie is starting her third trimester. Late last night, she started to spoon me. "Wait, where is your body pillow?" I asked.

"Right now, you are," she mumbled as she tried to fall back asleep.

…

"Oh!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, the baby is kicking. Did you feel that?"

"Oh! there it is again… and again!"

"He’s really active right now."

"Yeah, I’m can feel it on my butt cheek. Our son is literally kicking my ass!"

Posted on by tychay 0

“Gold” medal parenting

She says to me at 1 AM: “I’m so glad I sucked the snot out of our son’s nose… it wasn’t really gross at all.”

This was a short while after she showed me his boogies in the snot sucker with far more pride than when she showed me her finisher’s medal after her first triathlon.

Apparently, the sucker has a filter in it… or something.

Posted on by tychay 0

Rollin’ with his homies

By the afternoon, with the air quality getting a little better, M— was beyond tired, so Benjamin took took me in his ride, a Chicco KeyFit 30 Caddy, “cruisin’ for some chicks” (his words, of course, not mine). We were going stir-crazy at home anyway.

Because the warm weather, he wanted to just buckle up and jet and show his rockin’ bod he and mommy have been working on for the last 10 months, but M— thought the seat restraints would chafe his new baby skin and selected a dinosaur shirt from Auntie Nora that all the honey babies in his life (Mommy) thought made him look cute. While it did cover up his awesome guns, he finally relented, and we were off to give M— some much needed rest for a couple hours

We walked through the park, and, on the way back, he thought mommy would like some food to keep her milk all nice and yummy so we picked up some egg bread, spam musubi, and Garlic Noodle w/Pan Seared Prawn on the trip home. He even survived his first diaper change in the field (though, mommy was right: I should have packed more wipes and diapers in the Pronto Changing Station).

Unfortunately, other than a few comments about how cute he was, he didn’t get to pick up any chicks. I thought it meant I failed as a wingman, but Benjamin blames the ‘rona.

Fuck Trump.

Here is a selfie of just him and the boys.

Posted on by tychay 0