Boo-Pong, or Creatures of Habit 8

As you may have heard in the news, Georgia has recently been hit by massive flooding. Unfortunately, my parents' home in Georgia was in one of the flood areas. Fortunately, no one was living there at the time. Unfortunately, they live in China, so they had to rush back to do damage control. Fortunately, their flight has a layover at LAX, which means that VERY fortunately,that they get to visit their favorite little man.

As always, Hao Gong and Hao Po were overjoyed to see their grandson. They smothered him with hugs and kisses, their jetlag and weariness from the long flight forgotten.

But soon enough, a familiar pattern of behavior emerged, a sport that I like to call "Boo-Pong." As soon as one of them is holding the Boo, the other get anxious and wants to hold him, too. The result is a rapid back-and-forth. Think of my parents as ping pong players and the Boo as-- Well, you get it.

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Since the purpose of this Stateside trip was to tend to their flooded house in Georgia, they were only able to stay for a single night. Thankfully, their return trip to China would bring them back through LA, so we would see them again soon and they would get to continue their game of Boo-Pong.

A week later, they returned and the game was on once again. Hao Gong treated the Boo to a croissant at Coffee Bean. Hao Po helped the Boo go down the slide at the tot lot. Hao Gong held the Boo's little hand while they walked around the neighborhood.

That evening, Hao Gong scored the Boo for some one-one-one reading time.

But then Hao Po lured the Boo away with the scrumptious aromas emanating from her cooking. Later, the Boo showed his appreciation for the fine meal she'd prepared:

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After dinner, my parents bid Benjamin a sad farewell before boarding their long flight back to Asia. It's hard to say who won this trip's game of Boo-Pong, but it doesn't really matter.

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A good time was had by all, especially the Boo!

You might be thinking at this point, "Wait, a minute... Didn't they forget something? Something soft? Something white? Something Charmin-y?" The answer is "No, of course not!" On their first stopover in LA before continuing on to Georgia, they left behind this:

Can you guess what their instructions were?

Creatures of Habit 7 or Do Squeeze the Charmin!

As I've mentioned in previous posts, my Dad is obsessed with Charmin. Each time he visits the States, he'll bring a large, empty suitcase to fill with rolls and rolls of the soft goodness to use once he returns to China. Somehow, the details of his toilet tissue proclivities caught the attention of Virginia Wilcox, an ad rep for Charmin all the way in the Big Apple. She sent me this email:

Hi Lily,

I read in your blog that your family loves Charmin! I work with Charmin bathroom tissue and I wanted to send you an email about Charmin Ultra Soft's partnership with HGTV's designer Frank Fontana. I would love to send you a free kit that has a demo of how much you can save by using Charmin Ultra Soft instead of the leading value brand, as well as fun decorating tips from Frank Fontana of HGTV’s “Design on a Dime.”

Charmin Ultra Soft is designed with absorbent cushions that allow you to use less versus other leading brands. Charmin Ultra Soft is so soft and absorbent that you can use seven sheets of Charmin Ultra Soft versus 28 sheets of the leading value brand. Please let me know if you're interested; I would be happy to send you a kit! Enjoy your day!

Yours, Virginia for Charmin

Unlike my father, I wasn't a Charmin user; I was a longtime Target-brand toilet tissue devotee. However, I wasn't about to turn down an offer of free TP. So, I replied, "Heck, yeah!" and several weeks later, a package arrived on my doorstep.

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Inside the package was a pretty blue box from Charmin and a scented flameless candle thingy from Febreze. I really wanted to like the candle, but it just made my home smell like a chic-chic department store instead of the sweaty toddler romper room that it is. The Charmin box, however, came in quite handy. It was the perfect height for Boo to sit on, so for about a month as we worked our way through our existing stash of Target-brand TP, he used it as additional seating in his playroom.
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Fast forward one month later after all the Target TP has been used up. I opened the package to find four rolls of Charmin Ultra Soft, two sample stacks of toilet tissue (one of Charmin, one of another brand), and a removable flash drive. I found the presence of the flash drive to be rather odd. It was positioned between the two pillowy soft mounds of toilet paper, which instantly made me think that I was supposed to stick it in my-- Nevermind.

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I have to be honest with you - I wasn't expecting to like the Charmin toilet paper. It's more expensive than other brands, and I didn't have any complaints about the current brand I was using, so why would I switch? Also, how different can one little square of TP be from the next, anyway? The answer: VERY DIFFERENT. When I used Charmin for the first time, I was shocked by how apparent this was. At the risk of sounding like I work for Charmin, the stuff is pretty awesome. Not only is it softer than Target TP, but it's thicker, and that additional weight means that I can use less of it, which means that I don't have to buy it as much, which means that I can spend that money on other things like gummy bears and salt'n'vineager chips and pickles and ice cream and-- Sorry, those were the hormones talking. Anyway, suffice it to say, I'm a Charmin convert now.

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The only downside to my newfound love of Charmin is that I am now a toilet paper snob. I'll bet you didn't realize it was even possible to be snobby about what you wipe your *ss with, huh? Well, it is, and I am. Whenever I have to use a public restroom or even a friend's bathroom where a non-Charmin brand is provided, a feeling of bitter disappointment washes over me. "Why, oh, why, must I be forced to touch my delicate areas with this sandpaper?" It's not enough to make me carry an emergency stash of Charmin in my purse, but it is enough to make me stop making fun of my Dad. After all these years of laughing at his Charmin-filled, China-bound suitcases, I finally understand!

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Daredevils, or Creature of Habit 6

For the second Independence Day in a row, we celebrated by having a mini-Liu family reunion. My brother Leon and his wife Claire flew in from their new home in Kansas City to join me, Vince, Benjamin, and my mom, who was already in town from China.

Benjamin kicked off the holiday by asserting his own independence - on the playground. Until recently, he would go down the slide only while sitting on Mommy or Daddy's lap. In the spirit of the holiday, though, he decided that it was time for him to brave the slide on his own. He was, however, still willing to sit with Daddy on another, more dangerous ride - a downhill slalom on his new Plasma Car.

His new daredevil antics all but gave poor Hao Po a near heart attack! The irony was that she was the one who had bought him his new red car. I think she was kicking herself over that!

Thankfully, Benjamin balanced out his outdoor stunts with quieter, less life-threatening activities. Whenever we were indoors, he enjoyed sitting and reading with Hao Po.

On the evening of July 4th, Vince, Leon, Claire, and I tapped into our own inner daredevils by climbing up onto our rooftop to watch fireworks. From our precarious vantage point, we were able to see sparks in Culver City, Manhattan Beach, and Malibu.

And though my father was the only Liu family member who wasn't able to make it to our reunion, he made sure that he wasn't forgotten. In fact, his might have been the most daring act of all: he asked my very cranky, very crowd-averse mother to go to the circus that is Costco to him his precious Charmin. The look on my Mom's face while she was schlepping the Charmin was enough to send me cowering behind my shopping cart and thanking the heavens that I wasn't my dad at that moment. Talk about risky behavior!

Creature of Habit 5

It's a little-known fact that pregnancy can mess with your eyesight. I'm not sure exactly how this happens, but it has something to do with the liquid composition of the vitreous fluid, the goop inside your eyeballs. Usually, your eyesight self-corrects after pregnancy, but for a select few, it stays the same. I'm one of those lucky few. So now, along with my waistline and my feet, the size and shape of my eyeballs have been irrevocably altered. Thanks, Benjamin.

The upside of worsening eyesight is that you get to choose new glasses. If there is one thing that I dig, it's glasses. Before I gave birth to Mr. Grabby Hands, I used to wear glasses all the time. I loooove glasses. They're like clothes for your face! So it was with glee that I took a trip to the local optomologist last week. Before I unveil my newest face outfit, however, let's take a trip down my Memory Lane of Myopia...

This pair above are my current glasses. After about ten years of daily use and abuse, they're about to fall apart, but I love them so much that I just keep getting the lenses switched out.

This pair of glasses are my reading/computer glasses. I got them after my pregnancy when I found that I was having difficulty focusing on text. NO I DO NOT NEED BIFOCALS. Ok, maybe I do.

Now it's time for me to unveil my newest face outfit:

Ta-da! These are my new glasses! Aren't they cute? Not only are they cute, but they feature bendy legs that can withstand a reasonable degree of manipulation by chubby, grubby hands.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Gosh, Lily, those glasses all look alike. I'll admit that there is a slight resemblance among all three pairs. But first, let's look at them together:

When you see them side-by-side like this, you can see that each pair is distinctively different. Right?

Creature of Habit 4

Yes, it's been a while since my last post, but I have a very good excuse: I had to take my Dad to Costco to buy Charmin. As you may recall from a previous post, my Dad prefers the softness of Charmin to the sandpaper they call TP back in China. So each time he comes to Cali, I take him to Costco so he can stock up. Usually, he only buys one economy pack of Charmin, but this time, he bought two. TWO! I asked him why he decided to buy so much, and he just shrugged his shoulders. Hmmm. Maybe he's afraid that Procter & Gamble will be the next big business to go under, and he's trying to single-handedly keep them afloat. Either that, or maybe he's building a bomb shelter.

Of course, Charmin wasn't the real reason why my parents came to LA: the real reason was to see their beloved grandbaby Benjamin. I wish there was a way I could package Benjamin in pill form to give to my parents. When they first arrived at LAX, they were exhausted. My Dad looked bleary-eyed, and my Mom was complaining about her rheumatoid arthritis. The instant they laid eyes on the Boo, though, they perked right up. My Dad's eyes crinkled with laughter and my Mom started crawling around on the ground with Benjamin, her achy back momentarily forgotten. Of course, the next morning, she had a lot of trouble getting out of bed, but that didn't stop her from horsing around with Benjamin again. In fact, she took it a step further and decided to waltz around the house with him!

I guess that little giggle can make you forget any troubles you might have!

My mother's waltzing aside, another notable thing happened on this trip: Benjamin and my Dad bonded. It's not as though they were strangers before, but during this visit, it became clear that they were becoming very close pals. I had never seen my father smile as much as he did this past week. And as for Benjamin, he expressed a preference for hanging out with his Hao Gong over doing just about anything else, including eating!

My parents week with us seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye, and it was with a heavy heart that I kissed them goodbye at the airport. As the car pulled away from the curb, Benjamin burst into tears, and I found myself blinking a few back as well. It occurred to me that I should have snuck a few rolls from my Dad's Charmin stash into the car to wipe my eyes. Then again, maybe he'll need them all to wipe his own eyes until the next time he sees his little buddy.

Creature of Habit 3

As detailed in previous posts, the members of my family are all creatures of habit. It should come as no surprise then that the newest and smallest member of the family is also a creature of habit. He's a bit more devious than we are, though. Witness how the tiny trickster manages to get others to be party to his habit every single time.

My Dad has some odd habits of his own. My favorite is his habit of buying toilet paper - yes, toilet paper - to bring back with him to China. He does this every time he visits the States. And it can't be just any toilet paper; it's has to be Charmin. He claims that the TP in China isn't soft or sturdy enough for him. I just wonder if he's able to say that with a straight face to the airport security guy who's checking his luggage.

Isn't She Lovely?

After weeks of breathless anticipation, I finally got to meet Sienna Marie, the beautiful new daughter of fellow knitter Bernadette and her husband Steve. As I held her against my chest, she made these adorable little snuffling noises, and I thought to myself, "She sounds just like a pug!" Of course, I didn't vocalize this, because I would sound rude and crazy. The next day when I was telling Nancy about Sienna's visit, I happened to mention the noises she made, and Nancy immediately asked, "Did you think she sounds like a pug??" Ah! My obsession isn't as cleverly hidden as I'd thought!

I'm not, however, the only pug-besotted one, as the below montage will reveal. Let's call it "Creature of Habit, Part Deux."

"Creature of Habit" or "Just Plain Boring"?

(As you can see, some people like to use a creature to form a habit.)

I purchased my first "grown up" wallet in 2003: a marvel of buttery red leather with a dozen card slots, pockets for receipts, a spot for my checkbook and pen, a removable ID holder, and - crucial to any Asian - a place for photographs. Since then, the wallet has gotten pretty banged up, and last year I decided it was time for a replacement. The problem was I couldn't find anything that lived up to my stringent requirements, all of which my old wallet met. I tried to find my old wallet in a store, but, much to my chagrin, the particular style had been discontinued. So I went online, found a vendor which carried it, and purchased it. The. Exact. Same. Wallet. I didn't even buy the version in black. When the wallet arrived, I showed it to my buddy Dona. She gave me an incredulous look with one eyebrow cocked and said, "But it's the same wallet." I showed fellow knitter Nancy, who gave me the same look. "It's the same wallet." I showed it to my hubby, who rolled his eyes. "You're silly." I protested, "I'm a creature of habit! What's wrong with sticking to what you know, when what you know is what works?"

This afternoon, I went shopping for earrings with my pal Yvonne. She pointed to a cart of cute jewelry, to which I demurred, "No, no. I buy the same silver $14 hoops from Banana Republic. I'm on my fifth or sixth pair." There was That Look again. In the checkout line at BR, the cashier told me my total with tax was $19.49. Yvonne immediately crowed, "Hey, they're not $14 anymore!" I swear I detected a hint of glee in her voice.

So am I a creature of habit, or am I just plain boring? When I got home last night, I did some research. This is what my favorite jewelry looks like:



Hmmm. I suppose there IS somewhat of a theme. Let's take a look at the shoes and see what's up there.

Alright, slightly more alarming. Next, I peered inside my coat closet and found this:



I admit, it is a bit odd that I own multiple versions of what is essentially the same military-style jacket. Again, I suppose I'm just a creature of habit, and my habit happens to be olive green. Finally, I checked out my dresser drawers, and I nearly fainted.


I discovered that 95% of my tops were either black, white, or grey. What's more, about half of those were identical B & W versions of one other. For example, I would buy one black camisole in white, and then go back and buy the identical item in black. My first drawer alone held four sets.

I'm realizing that perhaps I'm becoming just plain boring. But isn't that what happens to married people?