Mommy: “Besh, do you know what ‘beshert’ means?”

Besh: “No, what?”

Mommy: “It’s Yiddish and it’s where we got your name. It means that when something is so special and so amazing that the only explanation is that it was meant to be. So when we first saw a picture of you in Mommy’s tummy, Daddy started calling you the Beshert Bean because you looked like a bean. And then we called you Besher after we thought and thought and thought. Because you were so special you were meant to be with us.”

Besh gets up out of his chair to go cuddle with Mommy. Then he looks up.

Besh: “And where did Isaac come from?”

Daddy: “Bah. Isaac’s a second child. We both liked the name.”

Mommy: “Daddy! Tell him where we got Isaac’s name!”

Daddy: “Besh, what letter does Isaac’s name start with?”

Besh: “I!”

Daddy: “That’s right! And that’s the same letter as Idel. Do you know who Idel was?”

Besh shakes his head.

Daddy: “That was Doccy’s real name.” (Doccy was Sara’s grandmother who passed away earlier this year)

Besh: “Oh, so it’s the same letter.”

Daddy: “Exactly.”

Besh: “Daddy! Do you know what else starts with I? iPhone!”

Mommy and Daddy laugh.

Besh: “Oh, and iPad too! So he was named after them too!”

Besher’s little brother, Isaac, has been known to perform the odd magic trick. Tonight’s trick was one for the blog.

For some months now I’ve been giving Boy Baths in the Mommy and Daddy bathtub. It’s big enough for them both and for me to sit on the side and reach them both. Isaac and Besh both love it to the point where Isaac will run into the bathroom, naked, when it’s time screaming “Baaf! Baaf!” He usually gets there before me so I turn on the water and he runs his hand under the faucet while I get the bath stuff ready.

Mommy and Besh were in the bathroom with Isaac while I grabbed a washcloth from Isaac’s room. As I walk back in we both hear Besh screaming. Isaac is at the edge of the tub, pointing inside and saying “Poop!” We look in the tub and, sure enough, there’s poop in the tub. Despite no kids being in the tub.

Turns out Isaac pooped, picked it up and put it in the tub. Besh witnessed this last bit and was screaming because he now believed Isaac would die from touching poop. Isaac, sensing all the commotion and wanting to soothe himself, started to put his thumb in his mouth. Mommy and I both screamed “Noooo!” and I dove to clutch his hand, then whisked him away to his room and changing table.

While Mommy cleaned the tub and I cleaned Isaac (he was clean, it was one of those poops apparently) and gave his hands an impromptu Silkwood shower, Mommy also reassured Besh that touching poop does not kill people or else there’d be no Mommies and Daddies. I plopped Isaac in the tub where he proceeded to wave his hands, say “Yuck!” and then run them under the water.

And we haven’t even started potty training. So episode 6 may be in pre-production for a while. A looong while, please.

Totally works on kids.

Case in point. Tonight, Besh finished dinner early and went upstairs to use the bathroom. Nonni (grandma) was with us tonight and still finishing dinner when we heard from upstairs

“Noooooooooonnnnniiiiiiiii!”

I walked to the balcony so he could hear me.

“Besh, are you calling Nonni to wipe your body?” (he knows that’s not allowed)

Long pause.

“Noooo….”

“Why don’t you put on pajamas and come down?”

“But I want Nonni!”

“So put on your pajamas and come down!”

“I want Nonni!”

Seeing where this was going, I gamified.

“Okay, let’s see who sounds angriest. You go first.”

Pause.

“What?”

“I want to see who sounds angriest. You go first and say you want Nonni. But be ANGRY!”

“I want Nonni!”

“Angrier!”

“I want NONNI!”

“ANGRIER!”

“I WANT NONNI!”

But now he’s laughing.

“Okay, you win!”

“I win?”

“Yes!”

“What do I win?”

“Nonni!”

“I won Nonni?”

“Just put on your pajamas and come down to get your prize!”

“Okay!”

He put on his pajamas, occasionally yelling how he wanted Nonni but then laughing hysterically.

Gamification. Use it.

The other night as I started playing “Grenade,” Besh started singing along. Sara was curious so she turned to Besh and asked:

“Besh, what do you think this song means?”

Besh stopped singing and turned to Mommy and said:

“It’s about a guy who loves a girl but she isn’t very nice to him at all. He gives her all of his love and she just throws it in the trash can.”

Mommy’s jaw dropped down to the floor and she stared at him in disbelief.

“Besher! How did you know that?”

“Daddy told me.”

Which is true. He and I had discussed the song a few weeks before when he asked me what the song was about. I realized that when he started the description, but it was just too funny to see Sara’s eyes grow wide as the description continued.

Mommy: “Besh, you know how Daddy I and go out for date night?”

Besh: “Uh huh.”

“Well, we thought you could come with us tonight.”

“For real?”

“Yes. Because we’re going to see a show that we thought you’d like.”

“What is it?”

At this point Besh is already grinning, excited at going out and whatever the show might be.

Mommy: “We’re going to go see Liza Minnelli.”

It’s a good thing he was sitting on the couch, because he literally fell over backwards. After a few seconds he jumped up and proceeded to hug Mommy and me in excitement. It’s been a while since I’d blogged about Besh’s love for the Tony Awards and plans to have a yogurt smoothie with Liza, but he hasn’t forgotten.

Besh proceeded to get dressed up. Corduroy pants, button down shirt, clip on tie, blue blazer. He was the dressiest of the three. When we got to the show, he couldn’t stop clapping. Especially when the pre-show announcer came out to talk about Liza, the show, the sponsors, etc. As everyone clapped at the appropriate spots, Besh took that as a cue to clap whenever there was a pause. Which made it a bit awkward when the announcer spoke about Liza’s charity (people living with HIV/AIDS) and he mentioned something sad and Besh was the only one to clap. Whoops.

But when Liza came out, Besh couldn’t control it. He stood up, and could not stop clapping. I mean not stop. Sara had to finally grab his arms in a hug.

He had a great time and managed to stay awake the whole show, which was more than Daddy could do. She’s still a performer, but sadly her voice is gone (really, really gone). But Besh didn’t care. He was sad he didn’t get to meet her (I guess Hairspray spoiled him a bit) but also just exhausted.

It’s amazing to see Besh’s love for theater continues even while his passion for Star Wars has taken over all other aspects of his life. I’m pretty sure if Besh could meet Liza he’d challenge her to a lightsaber fight.

1. When one eye drifts (strabismus) to a degree that surgery will help, that surgery actually takes place on both eyes.  This is a good thing to know when you were only expecting surgery on one eye, then as they’re about to deliver the early goofy juice they mention how surgery will be on both eyes.  Which is fine so long as you know in advance and not a few minutes before.
2. The nerves that form the visual center are shockingly close to the nerves that form the vomit center.  I don’t want to get all technical, but let’s just say that eye surgery plus anesthesia can equal a vomit party upon waking.
3. Unless you have spider-sense, lightning fast reflexes, and/or a recovery area with enough room to actually flee the Vomit Radius, it is highly encouraged for parents to bring multiple pairs of pants and shoes if their child is having surgery out of town.
4. It is amazing how much love and support a family can feel from text messages, emails, comments and just clicking Like on a Facebook post.  We honestly can never thank you all enough.
5. All the worry, stress, travel, pain, and did I mention worry, is worth it when your son is resting on the couch after the surgery and says, “Daddy, I’m glad I got my cataract out.”

Last night after dinner, Besh walked over to his chalkboard, picked up a piece of chalk and started doodling on the board.

Besh: “Daddy, can you guess what this is?”

Me: “It’s a drawing. With chalk. Green chalk.”

“No. For real.”

“Oh, for real. Well, it’s a drawing of Greece. No, Italy.”

“No, you’re wrong. You’re out of the game. Mommy?”

Mommy: “That’s a drawing of a man riding a horse.” (It was probably something else, but it didn’t really matter)

Besh: “That’s right, you’re the winner Mommy!”

While I protested, because it really looked more like Italy, Besh erased the board and drew something else.

Besh: “Okay, Daddy, pick a number and a color.”

Me: “The number is four and the color is red.”

Besh: “No, you’re wrong. You’re out of the game. Sorry. Mommy?”

Mommy: “3,487.560,394.3″ (Yes, it started in the billions and went to one decimal place.) “And the color is blue.”

“That’s right, Mommy! You’re the winner!”

I protested again. This game is hard. Besh agreed to give me one more chance. Again I had to pick a number and color.

I did a number that started in the trillions and went to three decimal places. And picked blue.

Besh: “Nope. Sorry.”

“WHAT?! Then what was the number?”

“Twenty-four thousand fifteen hundred.”

At least I got the color right.

Yesterday Besh and I were in the bedroom with Mommy and Isaac as I was getting ready for the afternoon adventure (Costco, as I mentioned. Because bulk quantities are an adventure!). To be clear, this was not planned. But it couldn’t have been better if it had been planned.

Besh: “Hey, Daddy, you know what? I can make a rhyme!”

Me: “Let’s hear it!”

“HEAD rhymes with SHIRT!”

“Hey, that doesn’t rhyme!” {Besh laughs}

“HAT rhymes with TV!”

“Hey, that doesn’t rhyme!” {Besh laughs}

“SHOE rhymes with FLOOR!”

“Hey, that doesn’t rhyme!” {Besh laughs}

“FEET rhymes with PANTS!”

“Hey, that doesn’t rhyme!” {Besh laughs}

Mommy: “Oh, I get this game! Hey, Besh, SOCKS rhymes with LEGS!”

Besh looks at Mommy and, totally deadpan, says:

“No, Mommy. SOCKS rhymes with FOX.”

I exert a non-trivial amount of energy to not burst out laughing.

Mommy: “Oh, Besh, you’ve made Daddy so proud.”

Take, for example, Spamalot. Since my Sirius radio is barely functioning, when driving in my car we’ve been listening to CDs a lot. Besh got bored with the random music CD so he asked me to flip through the different discs (it’s a 6-disc changer that I probably loaded 2 years ago and haven’t touched since). Disc 1 was Evanescence which probably had bad language. Disc 2 was Spring Awakenings which definitely has inappropriate language. Disc 3 was Spamalot, so there we landed. After hearing the opening number once, in which a narrator clears his throat, it was dubbed by Besh “The Coughing Song” and requested many times. So many times that we barely got past the first few songs.

We did, once or twice, make it to The Song That Goes Like This. If you haven’t heard, it’s a parody of your typical Broadway romantic song, some funny stuff if you’ve seen more than 2 musicals. All four of us were riding in my car over the weekend when this song came on.

Besh: “Is she a witch?”

Sara: “Is who a witch?”

“The lady of the water. The lady singing the song.” (It’s the Lady of the Lake, close enough, he’s 4 after all)

“No. She’s not a witch.”

“I think she’s a witch.”

“Why?”

“Because she says she’s casting a magic spell.”

“She does?”

“Yeah. She says she’s casting a magic spell. So, she’s a witch.”

That’s when it hits Sara. The first verse and a half of the song are this:

Once in every show
There comes a song like this
It starts off soft and low
And ends up with a kiss
Oh where is the song
That goes like this?
Where is it? Where? Where?

A sentimental song
That casts a magic spell…

So he had picked up on that line and associated her with a witch. Amazed me, that’s for sure.

Clearly I need to have a conversation with Besh about how to determine if she’s really a witch. Which we all know involves newt-conversions and weighing as much as a duck.

While driving to dinner the story of how Mommy and Daddy came up. So I told Besh the story and he wanted to put it in context.

Besh: “This was when you were kids?”

Me: “Well, we weren’t exactly kids. But we weren’t Mommy and Daddy yet either.”

“Oh. So after you met then I was in Mommy’s tummy?”

“Ten years or so later, yeah.”

“And then I came out. And then you gave me a name. And then you gave me a better name.”

Sara and I laughed.

Sara: “Actually, Besh, we were calling you Besher when you were in my tummy.”

Besh’s eyes go wide.

“You KNEW me then?!”

Strangely enough, I think we did.