The one where the boys review Tillamook Yogurt

Being the powerful blogging parent that I am I get emails on the regular asking me to write about this thing or the other but every once in a while a really great one comes in. Last week one such opportunity did come when the folks at Tillamook asked if the boys would try out their yogurt and let them know what they thought. We were sent some yogurt, a few coupons, and some stickers that have now added to the aesthetic of the inside of my mini-van. While we live on Tillamook Cheddar cheese and have made a couple trips to the factory while visiting the coast we had not tried their yogurt yet. I set the boys up with a couple of spoons, some Tillamook yogurt choices, and a running camera and let them do their thing, below is their review complete with destruction of property, a fight over silly things, and the goofy witticisms we’ve come to expect and love. All and all a typical interaction.

Tillamook Yogurt from Portland Dad on Vimeo.

Long live the Coxy Pario!

The Coxy Pario

Classic 1932 Tudor with Large Living Spaces. Original Charm…Coved Ceilings, Built=Ins and Crown Moldings. Hardwoods, Coxy Wood Burning FP, Vinyl Windows, New Gas Furnace and Electrical Panel, Dechached Gargae, Two Covered Pario’s, Full Basemanent, Needs Updating!

That is the write up of our house when the listing went public. There was one picture of the front of the house and it was not good. That was it. Badly constructed ad with odd misspellings, no photos, and little to make you feel good about the place but I knew we had to take a look. My theory is that the listing agent got drunk and made a bet with a fellow realtor that the market was so good right now that he could sell this house no matter what he put on the listing. I mean even your smart phone would change the spelling of a lot of those words. You might have a “Crazy” fireplace instead of a “Coxy” fireplace. No this seemed like a bet made after one too many chardonnays.

Our offer was in less than 24 hours after the listing went public so that drunken realtor won his ill conceived bet. There were 3 offers after ours and over 20 viewing of the place that day so I think he had reason to be so cocky. Now any picture that I post of the house is tagged with a location of “The Coxy Pario”. All good homes need a good name and I can think of no better name for this place than the Coxy Pario.

Segundo versus the fire drill

Punk Rock Preschool

Punk Rock Preschool

Yesterday when I went to pick Segundo up from preschool his teacher pulled me aside to tell me a story. They had a fire drill that day but when it started Segundo was busy on the toilette. Since he likes his freedom while sitting on the throne he as sans pants and chonies. Just a t-shirt and socks and singing songs while the bell went off. Fast forward to the kids lined up outside and Segundo’s teacher came up because it looked like he needed a little help. He was holding his pants up as she came over to help him button up but she noticed he needed to pull up his chonies. Problem was he didn’t have them, he got right out of the building like he was taught to and didn’t have time to load the boys back up. He just grabbed his pants and hopped out of the classroom. When they got back in she went to help him get dressed but ran into another problem, he hadn’t wiped. She was fighting back laughter as she told him to wipe, wash his hands, put on his underwear, put his pants back on, and come out so she could help button up. The great take away here is that he knows what to do in an emergency situation, but we may need to work on his bathroom routine a little more.

Pearls of Wisdom from Segundo

The other morning while we were all getting ready for our days Segundo came into our room and asked Beautiful “Mommy are you going to put on your boobie trap?” Of course he was talking about her bra and I will only call it a boobie trap from here on out. it was brilliant. He had heard the term before and had no idea what it meant so he worked out a meaning from the information he had. Brilliant I tell you!

Scaring their food to death

I don’t know why but it seems my boys are angry eaters. At least they are when ever there’s a camera around and since I’m such a social media parent that is far too often for their own health. The picture above is exhibit A, taken when I asked Primo if I could have a bite of his Pad Thai after a great Memorial Day in Portland.

Exhibit B is Segundo going after a slice on Primo’s birthday. Notice his perfect form in handling a New york style piece of pizza. If it’s too hot for his hand he tries to immediately put it into his mouth to cool his hands down but we all know how that ends. Not sure were these emotions come from but this aggression won’t stand man.

Adventures in Public Transit

Primo does not like being picked up late

Segundo wanted to go on an adventure. “Let’s take the bus daddy, when we go pick up Primo let’s take the bus!” He was excited and it was raining so why not. We could ride the bike and he could sit in his warm trailer dry and happy as a clam while I pedaled into the blustery mist of swirling seas, or something like that. No taking the bus sounded great so I checked in with the trip planner and found our best route. A simple matter of taking the 4 bus to the train and the train to the school, we can do this.

Step one, get on the right number bus going in the wrong direction. At first I was mad that Tri-met’s trip planner lead me astray but after thinking about it for a bit I realized my error. Getting on the bus that was going in the wrong direction from where I wanted to go should have been my first clue but I just thought it looped around.

Step two, Choose another bus that will get you there on time. The 75 bus would still get us where we needed to go and might even get us to the train on time. The bus was early picking us up but the driver waited at the next stop for 2 minutes because she was ahead of schedule. We made it to the train just as the max was pulling away. That train would have put us right in front of the school just as Primo was done but instead we waited another 15 minutes for the next train.

Step Three, get off the train one stop too early. Flustered and a little wet I thought we were at the school but we weren’t. We had to walk 8 more blocks to get to the stop we should have gotten off at and at this point we were 20 minutes late picking up the boy. He was not happy but at least I wasn’t the last parent there. His teacher had a good laugh at my retelling of the story and Primo soon warmed to the idea of a trip back home on the bus. We stopped for some lunch and by the time we were walking the last bit to our house we were all soaked but enjoying the adventure we had originally set out on.