Gosh, it seems like a long time since we chatted about our favorite little friend, JB. The last big trip he took was to NYC with Abbey and I in April, to see Hamilton. He loved the big city, except for the subway. He got a little nervous then but, he's small so it's understandable. Here he is in The Grange, the house Hamilton built north of the city, up where Harlem is now.
Jingleboy really wanted me to buy him this bobble-head of A. Ham, but I said no. Why? Because bobble-heads creep me out, that's why. And also because I said so.
He has all the Hamilton songs memorized so if they ever have casting call for OKC we'll go down.
He refused to go to Easter Mass this year and probably won't ever go again, since it was after an Easter mass when he was accidentally swooped up with the stuffed animals (who confuses him with a stuffed anything?) and held hostage in a plastic trash bag for three years. He has scars, people...PTSD.. and no, he refuses to go to his therapy sessions so we're letting the Mass thing slide. Mum's the word.
He was here for Farm Camp but pouted because we wouldn't let him ride the horse by himself. Having traveled around the world he has about him a certain sense of entitlement. It drives me nuts.
He has been spending some time at the Casa de Korenak lately, helping Ro's 'workerguys' with their construction projects. The lady at the candy shop gifted him a tiny little yellow hard hat so he would be safe. He loved it.
Last week he and Jangle both came home and get a cleanup and some new bells sewn on. I didn't realize the bells were missing until some child asked me why we call him Jingleboy. I looked and, sure enough, no bells in sight. He's right as rain now though. I dug out the aprons so he and Jangle could help with pie baking. Jangle is already in the mood for Halloween and wore his Mizzou tiger costume. To tell the truth they didn't help very much but they enjoyed the photo ops. (Yes, his apron is hand-monogrammed. Your's isn't? Really?)
Then there was this fiasco moment. I was cutting up a remnant I had, trying to get it straightened up so I could cut some strips for a border, when this happened. I almost lost him. I thought I heard a faint mumble or a tiny little yelp of fright. He knows what happens to those piles of trimmings once I'm done for the night and he did not want to end up spending the rest of his life in the dumpster or buried in the landfill. Not to worry, my little friend. I would never toss you out with the scraps. (Where is your hat?) I distinctly remember sewing that hat onto his head last time I went to the city with him and now it is gone again.
Why do kids always take the hats and clothes off their dolls and toys? One of the mysteries of the universe I guess.
Right now Jingleboy is in a funk because he missed the plane that was going to Croatia this week. Oh well, there will be another trip to somewhere else one of these days. He declined going to Las Vegas with A and K this summer because....yeah, you guessed it: been there, done that. (We have a picture of him hunched over the bar to prove it.)
The other place we went the other day was to one of Zane's t-ball games. Here he is, sitting, watching. He was very quiet the whole time. I don't think he really 'gets' t-ball.