Apparently a burglar with a heart of gold warmed a bottle for a baby in the house he was robbing. The burglars had forced their way into a house and were robbing the place , but one stopped to warm a bottle for the crying baby and gave it to another child to feed the baby.
I wonder if I could get one of the burglars to come and help babysit Linus sometime. Certainly loving children is a prerequisite for babysitting. But holding a gun to the parents head during the robbery and pistol whipping the other adult present probably indicates this isn't a good idea. He was caught after the burglar's aunt recognized him on surveillance video which showed them at the scene of the robbery. One is still at large.
(video at WISHtv.com)
Friday, November 20, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Teaching Klingon to the baby.
BoingBoing references a story about a linguist who attempted to teach Klingon as a first language to his son. He only spoke Klingon to the child for the first three years of his life. The father thought that his son was really starting to pick up the language. Although it appears that it didn't stick, from the article:
In a similar experiment I "speak-a to Linus, ina da brokena English, so dat he canna learna da' Italian of-a my ancestors", or I "talk with zee Fwench accent, ah, hah, hah ,hah". I am not sure it is working. Every day I myself fight the urge to turn my child raising into a grand sociology experiment. I suppose only an ethics board review and jail time keep me from enacting this dream.
(Klingon stroller and bassinet from this post)
"As for Speers, who still gets nostalgic when he recalls singing the Klingon lullaby “May the Empire Endure” with his son at bedtime, the experiment was a dud. His son is now in high school and doesn’t speak a word of Klingon."Speers, the linguist, puts his skills to work at a company called Multilingua, which writes translation software for more common languages, and also Klingon.
In a similar experiment I "speak-a to Linus, ina da brokena English, so dat he canna learna da' Italian of-a my ancestors", or I "talk with zee Fwench accent, ah, hah, hah ,hah". I am not sure it is working. Every day I myself fight the urge to turn my child raising into a grand sociology experiment. I suppose only an ethics board review and jail time keep me from enacting this dream.
(Klingon stroller and bassinet from this post)
Monday, November 9, 2009
Linus in argyle
One of the fun things you get to do with your infant son is dress him in all the cool clothes you want. Another advantage that Linus has is his extreme cuteness. He can pull off many more outfits than I could, I am a little jealous. A few weeks ago he was dressed to the nines in his argyle sweater, white shirt and khakis. He agreed to pose for some pictures.
He is a delight to watch when you get him laughing.
Another thing I like to do is get close in front of him on the ground to get a picture, but now that he is crawling so quickly it ends with me retreating around the room as quickly as I can and him chasing me in a dead run (crawl?) as fast as he can.
I like the looking into the camera effect when he almost catches me crawling and I haven't had time or space to back up away from him. He loves chasing the camera.
Mommy helped distract him from chasing me in the last picture.
He is a delight to watch when you get him laughing.
Another thing I like to do is get close in front of him on the ground to get a picture, but now that he is crawling so quickly it ends with me retreating around the room as quickly as I can and him chasing me in a dead run (crawl?) as fast as he can.
I like the looking into the camera effect when he almost catches me crawling and I haven't had time or space to back up away from him. He loves chasing the camera.
Mommy helped distract him from chasing me in the last picture.
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