Wednesday, May 27, 2009



Yesterday at the Berkeley Farmer's Market, after a missed nap, a belly full of chicken, brown rice, strawberries and other foodstuff I am forgetting, Phoenix was exhausted. I got on line to pay for some sugar snap peas, and left my mom to man the stroller. When he caught sight of me (I had been pushing him for some time, and thereby out of his view) his eyes rolled back in his head and he exclaimed "DORA!" Except he didn't pronounce it Dora, but DOYA! as in GOYA, OH BOYA, and all drawn out. Over and over "DOYA!"

This has become one of the universal Phoenixisms for "HOLY GOD, WHY AM I STILL AWAKE?", along with a request for "boos coos" (Blue's Clue's) and "i peam" (ice cream).
So, it was not like I had never heard it before. Nevertheless, it was startling. Immediately, the implication, to my mind, was "BAD PARENT! BAD PARENT!"

Guy on line in front of me: "Dora, huh?"
Me with head in hands: "Um, yeah."
Guy: "I really like the Backyardigans"
Me: "Oh yes, me too. And Jack's Big Music Show isn't bad either. Oh, and Wonder Pets...
AAAHHHHHHH, wait a damn..., oh crap.....

Part aversion to pre-packaged templates of fun, part fear of being hanged at the organic mecca which is the Berkeley Farmer's Market, and part irritation that he has become hooked on the show so easily and requests it daily, we have scaled back the Dora watching.
Dude, that bitch mispronounces words. We realized this after he started calling the beach "the beak." Not cool.

It was fun for a while. On our daily adventures, Phoenix got a kick out of calling me Dora, and I called him Boots.
We even entertained the idea of Halloween costumes where Phoenix was Boots, I was Dora, Kevin was (well, not really, but ok, maybe) Diego.
You know, cause of Phoenix. Right.
Forget it.
Down with Dora.

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