Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Horton Hears a Whodini

For those of you unfamiliar with the life and antics of Harry Houdini, he was a Hungarian-born magician who became famous in his role as an escapologist (yes, it really is a word.) After researching a bit about him online, my opinion is that he was a tad creepy, too. For instance, anyone who voluntarily wraps himself in a straitjacket and hangs suspended high above New York City has some serious kooky going on. And the movie Horton Hears a Who, which somewhat recently came out in theaters, is a stellar piece of cartoon cinemagic. I have been partial to kids' movies ever since I can remember. Though you may disagree with the intelligence level of such a film, the creators are quite witty in their use of humor and conversation. Clever to combine the two in this post's title. Michael came up with it. I digress.

Houdini performed his stunts before stunned, paying crowds. Why do I write about Houdini? Well, my friends, my baby and my dog are both escape artists (although they are not like him in the creepiness factor.) They do not receive payment for escape feats. They do not perform before amazed and disbelieving people, hushed in anticipation of the miracle they are about to witness. They do not pack out tents with paparazzi and media gurus. But they are escape artists, nonetheless.

I will begin with my Houbaby. She is much cooler than my dog, but my dog is pretty cool too. Every night--and sometimes for nap times during the day--Mike and I swaddle our baby because this is how she feels secure. You know, that whole womb-like deal. My husband calls it her straitjacket, which I hate, and in that case she would have something else in common with Houdini. Every night--and yes, sometimes for nap times during the day--she decides she is through with being swaddled and inches her little baby arm up and out of the swaddler until...wham! One arm free! Then, she twists and wiggles and grunts until...wham! Other arm free! This is all very entertaining. I must admit, however, it's a little less endearing when this is happening at, say, 3:13 a.m., since then I receive the honor of waking up to a firm slap in the face. (In case you are confused, we bedshare. Yes, it's safe. Yes, we researched. Yes, we are aware of the dangers. No, she doesn't sleep better on her own. And yes, we do have our "alone time" and get enough sleep. I'll be taking more questions afterward.) By the way, the swaddler packaging claims that once my baby is swaddled, there is no possible way that he/she can wiggle out. They obviously haven't met my little girl. What strikes me as funny is the look on her face when she busts free--she looks so proud to have foiled the SwaddleMe company as an infant. Here she is in all her swaddling glory:

Now, my dog's tale is completely different. She does her best to give me a headache. Houdoggie is a rescued dog to begin with, a Spitz/Corgi canine I found a few years ago. At one time, she was sadly mistreated, but now, we provide her with optimal snuggles and food. Her little doggie heart is on the mend, evidenced by her happier demeanor. I don't know if it's her background, one of her breeds or just her personality, but she has a knack for discovering holes in our fence and then leaving our premises through those same holes. Sneakily--I've even caught her looking over her shoulder to check if I'm watching--she slides through one of those holes, no matter how many times we've fixed it--"for good this time", Michael always says. Whenever I think it's safe to let her in the backyard all on her own, she pulls a fast one on me. I've found her in neighbors' yards, scaring squirrels out of their minds as she passionately barks. I've found her in the back alley, sniffing rocks. I've found her romping next to another dog. I've found her racing around our yard and woofing at me as though I was the one who escaped! Most embarrassing is when the neighbors find her for me, since she was trespassing on their property (and probably peeing on their rosebushes, too.) Did I mention that she lifts her leg like a dog of the male persuasion? And that she likes to perch on the back of couches like a cat? She is one confused little doggie. Identity issues don't stop her from mastering the escape act, though. Here is Pearl's (our dog) best side. Of course, she uses Baby's lambskin as her own personal sleeping cushion (I wish I could share a pic of her escaping, but I haven't been able to catch her in the act on camera...yet. Duh-duh-duh.)

Hou of you have similar stories to share? I'd love to hear. As for me, I'm ready to go to sleep. Ready for another night of Houbaby freedom fighting and tomorow, Houdoggie departures.


rachaeldear said...

i once climbed out the window of my high school economics class at a point where the teacher could not see me... then walked around to the window behind his desk, where he was sitting, and made fun of him for all my class to see. then i snuck back in. he had no clue. one of the highlights of my senior year.

Mom said...

How can I not think about your little cousin Nathan who climbed over the newly-constructed back-yard fence and ran around to ring the doorbell in the front,
saying, "Hi, Mommy!" to Aunt Paula?