Max:

Don’t tear up your baby license. The Evil Gods will look into the ripped part and say “Oh, this is the power.” And that will destroy the Aloha Relaxation Company.

Eric:

Oh. I’ve got to go upstairs …. (Dashing to Facebook! )

Max:

Don’t post that on Facebook. The Aloha Relaxation Company will fall apart.

The Aloha Relaxation Company delivers blankets that help you relax. The Founder, Max, gives us examples of his company’s services every morning at 5:45. I’m not entirely sure what the Baby License is.

We’re well along to raising an Eagle Scout. Max has taken an interest in fishing, is reading Boy’s Life, and this morning, wrote a book about using a pocket knife.

Unfortunately, with these instructions you certainly will not get your Totin’ Chip. The part about “Pretend you are swinging a s(w)ord” would disqualify anyone.

Read the whole book for details.

Based only on third hand reports I’ve developed a revulsion to the sparkly-vampire show Twilight. So, I jumped like I’d met a leper when Max wanted to show Mom his “Sparkling Communities.” Mom put him to bed, hoping that he’d forget. Max never forgets. Next morning he was still excited about Sparkling Communities.

Max wakes up about an hour before his parents and he often entertains himself by making books.

Fortunately, Max is all boy, and the Sparkling Communities turned out to be astronomical constellations.  Here is a PDF of the full book.

Max has become interested in knights and dragons, so it wasn’t surprising when he asked about how to get a sword from a stone. I explained the legend of King Arthur as best I could remember. Then Max explained, “No, how do you make a sword from a stone. ”

Possible, I supposed, but not practical. Max persisted. He persisted for several weeks. Finally, I understood what he was really saying: “Good God Man, you’re a Busboom! Get to work! ” So I made a sword from a stone.

We took a river rock from the garden, put a diamond blade on the angle grinder, and free-handed a sword. Even though Max was equipped with safety glasses and an apron, the  lesson was entirely negated by Dad holding an angle grinder in one hand, and a rock in the other.

Regardless, the result was acceptable, and Max approves:

This was the first year that we’ve really talked to Max about Santa Claus. He’s 5 now, and in previous years he didn’t care or didn’t understand. The magic did not last long.

Max, to Mom: Is Santa Claus real, or a made up story?

Mom: Well, Santa Claus is, um, the spirit of Christmas.

Max: But is he real or a made up story?

Mom: It’s kind of hard to say.

Max: Can Daddy say?

Mom: Go ask your Dad.

So, tomorrow, I get to pitch Santa Claus to a young skeptic. Somehow, saying “If you see it in the Huffington Post it’s so” doesn’t quite feel right.

The second release from the Artists’ oeuvre:

The lyrics are exactly what they sound like, and his parents have absolutely no explanation for them.

The budding songsmith has combined the tradition of children’s songs with the lurid interests of 5 year old boys.

If you’re happy and you know it crack your skull. (Crack, Crack) x3
If you’re happy and you know it,
then your face should surely know it
If you’re happy and you know it crack your skull. (Crack, Crack)

Max fights the octorok with his termomos. The octorok is a baddie from the Zelda video games, but the termomos is Max’s creation.

Max has discovered folk music. Dad hopes it is a passing phase.