New Year’s Eve 2018

We’re in Mexico, so we aren’t doing our usual tradition of stumbling across the yard to Chris and Lexa’s. We’re planning on stumbling across the pool to the hotel restaurant, where they’ve planned a little extortion meal for everyone dumb enough not to make reservations somewhere else. It’s so expensive that Diana flat out refuses to tell me the price.

We spent the day poolside, constructing elaborate games. One was called “Jesus Christ, it’s Jason Bourne.” We chopped off the JC part of the title after we realized it was offensive. Our games all involve some kind of tag, mixed with making sure Luca doesn’t drown.

Right around siesta time, a massive storm blew in. As Diana collected our stuff, the boys and I decided to tough it out. Wind turned once peaceful umbrellas into weapons. Seagulls shouted at us to leave our French Fries and run. We decided to high tail it once we saw the staff leave their tips and make for shelter. But not soon enough to miss getting utterly drenched. Right now I am sitting among the soggy garments of lazy children.

And I wouldn’t change a thing.

Now is the time where I leave a little New Year’s Eve note to my fam.

Dear Elijah,

You’ve become so independent, so sure of yourself, so confident. You own junior high. And you’re the first kid I’ve ever met who got a Christmas love note from his teacher saying how amazing they are. Every year you get kinder and sweeter and funnier. I hope 2019 brings you happiness and many, many victories. You may be better than me at Fornite, but I still love you more.

Dear Luca,

You make me laugh so much. You are just so silly and fun and goofy. You have such spirit. I love that you find your own things to be into, like baseball. But you still keep one foot in our family. You’ve got such a fun little crew of goofballs and I’m glad you are so loved. I hope 2019 brings you lots of adventures and lots of laughs. You mae be better than me at Fortnite, but I still love you more.

Dear Diana,

You are so strong, so amazing. I can’t believe you are able to keep such a sense of humor among all your ailments. You are an inspiration. Thank you for making me brave and making me take risks. Your bets always pay off. I can’t wait to see what we do next year. I hope 2019 brings you peace and calm in our cabin and lots of amazing wine. You may be better than me at decorating, but I still love you more.

Dear Grover,

Don’t die. I love you.

p.s. Sorry for the photo. Flashes are for suckers.

Bros Nest Is Back On The Air (Eventually)

During our daily vacation siesta, Diana and I sleep off our lunchtime margaritas while Elijah and Luca watch their favorite YouTube stars. Sometimes I crawl into bed with Luca and get a second hand dose of his favorites, which include a genre of I like to call “Bros Doing Stupid Things.”

Sometimes bearded, always wearing hats backwards, the Bros Doing Stupid Things sometimes eat gross/hot food, scare each other, hurt each other, win useless Guinness World Records and say “Bro.” A lot. At first, I hated them with a fiery hot anger of someone who doesn’t have fun at his job. But I soon learned to love those 20-something millionaires.

This morning after breakfast, I was inspired.

“Guys. Let’s re-start your YouTube channel. But instead of posting nothing, let’s do challenges like the Bros Doing Stupid Things.”

Years ago, the boys started a YouTube channel called “Bros Nest.” They didn’t really post much because their dad didn’t encourage their creativity. But now their dad would! At least for a little while.

First, we needed a challenge. The pool at the hotel has two levels, separated by a little waterfall with many, many gringo warnings. We decided I would throw a football from the upper level to the lower, and the Bros would leap from a little ledge and catch it before splashing into the pool. Easy Peasy. We also planned on giving our hotel credit for the whole thing, you know, as branded advertising. We’re no dummies.

Next, we needed a video camera. We decided to use Diana’s phone because she was relaxing and wouldn’t notice if it was stolen.

Third, execute, Bros Doing Stupid Things, style.

I tossed while Eli filmed. Luca missed the first 400 throws. No problem. That’s what editing is for. I started to feel a little click in my shoulder, so we switched cinematographers. Luca opted for a much higher angle to add drama to the success.

After the next 300 misses, a pain started shooting up and down my arm. Plus, storm clouds approached from the west. I kept saying into the camera, “This next one is gonna be it, guys.” And then I would accidentally bean some little kid in the head.

We decided to save our strength and finish our successful Bros Nest challenge tomorrow and went to have margaritas and chips y guac.

Bros Nest!

Vacation 2018

Hey everybody! The Hamanns are going to Mexico! What? Yes. I am aware that we just purchased a cabin. Yes. I am aware we haven’t spent more than 24 hours there. What are you, the vacation police? We made these plans before the cabin was a glimmer in Diana’s eyes. But yes, I get your point. We’ll probably not be doing another big Christmas trip again.

Until next year.

In anticipation of our trip, we watched “Home alone.” KEVIN!

As you can see from the photo, I was in charge of packing the boys and me. Great packing job or the greatest packing job? You decide.

Our airport shuttle was all set to pick us up at 7:30am. Plenty of time to make our flight. I, however, woke up at 7:15am. KEVIN! I started screaming, “Up! Up! We’re missing it! We’re missing vacation!”

Diana casually turned the shower on. No! No showers. Only panic. She ignored me and stepped in.

I had more luck with the boys, because I am bigger than them.  I shoved them around the house, badgering them to get shoes on and get sweatshirts now.

Diana asked me to help her move the gigantic suitcase that is perpetually 5 pounds over the airline limit. I scraped it along her big toe, sheering off a good chunk of the nail. That got her moving.

The airport car showed up and I tried to stall the driver by very slowly taking our luggage out one piece at a time. He didn’t seem to care. I went back inside to find Diana and Eli having a huge argument over a sweatshirt. Diana was so angry she did that thing where she gets right in your face and growls. That’s the spirit! Luca smartly got his stuff together without complaint.

We finally got everyone outside and after all that pain and suffering were still an hour and a half early for the flight. Yes! Hamann time.

The flight was wonderful and our hotel is great. We spend much of today going for the world record in catching a football while leaping into the pool.

My abs hurt from sucking in my gut.

In other news, our awesome neighbors are watching Grover. They have a new puppy named Gracie and according to reports, Grover and Gracie have begun a passionate May-September love affair. Grover’s still got it.

Football

Sorry I haven’t posted lately. I’ve been traveling a bit. Plus, I was finding every post began with “So…Fornite.” I would rather this not turn into a Fortnite fan blog. Plus, I’ve officially quit the game after my miraculous victory. Going out on top and all.

A few weeks ago, the Hamanns experienced a brief and intense love affair with football. Driven, of course, by Luca. But to my surprise Elijah also started asking to play football at the park. I was all for it. Firstly to shift attention away from the game we shall not mention. Plus, I figured there was something Kennedy-esc about tossing the old pigskin around after a nice family meal and some low level corruption.

We even managed to convince cousins Finn and Rory to join us a few Saturdays ago. Plus Uncle Steve! After a brief and intense argument about teams, Steve and I couldn’t convince the kids to let us play on the same side. So it was me, Luca and Finn against the losers.

On the walk to the park, I stopped short and grabbed Luca by the arm.

“We’re playing for fun, right? We aren’t here to dominate our cousins, right? Fuuuuun.”

Luca responded by smearing mud under each eye. “Let’s do this.”

After a brief Q and A about the rules of football (no, this isn’t the one with the bat), we got it on. Oh, doctor. What a game. With the combination of ages and skill level, it was a fun, evenly matched game. Luca stalked the field with muddy intensity. Eli Gumby shape made him a perfect wide receiver. Finn is speedy on his little legs and no one wanted to hurt Rory so she scored a few touchdowns.

Steve and I made sure each kid got their hands on the ball and made darned sure we didn’t have to run.

Until the last play. We were on the one yard line, or the 50 yard line. I’m no longer sure. But we needed a big play. So we decided to execute the Statue of Liberty. Or was it a fumblerooski? Or picket fence? It’s the one where I hand it off to Luca, who then throws it to me. We’ll call it “The Achilles Tendon.”

I hiked it and my dear brother tried to blitz. But I knew he was winded. Because I was winded. I handed it off to Luca and he tossed it to me. Perfect catch, natch. But then I saw Eli close in on me, with an insane, “This is the time become a man” look on his face.

Eli can beat me in Fortnite. He can beat me in Star Wars Battlefront. He can beat me in Mario Kart, but I would be damned if I let him beat me in football.

So I ran, Forest. I ran. As my legs debated with my heart about what should kill me, I could hear Eli’s insane laughter behind me. My tendons made that sound rope makes in movies right before it snaps. I thought, “Snow boots were a bad choice.”

I made it across the end zone, or the imaginary line extending from the sad tree across the park. Touchdown, baby! I celebrated the only way I knew how: by limping home, ball in hand, my fans cheering with calls of “Come back!” and “We’re not done yet!”

We sure were.

Unsleep Over

Instead of a big trampoline palace party or Benihana thing, Luca opted for having a few pals join him to see a movie and then sleep over and play Fortnite way too late. Luca hand selected his most ardent Fortnight fan friends. Three pretty nice, fun goofballs who combined to be an absolute nightmare.

The movie viewing itself was uneventful. Except one kid thought it would be funny to shout out random things periodically to make the rest of the crew laugh. I did not laugh.

While Diana went to sleep, I let the boys stay up way too late playing the game while I read the new Jeff Tweedy biography. This was my downfall. I missed my window of opportunity to get them to sleep and they turned into the most annoying zombies on the face of the earth.

I managed to get them into Luca’s room and gave my usual threats. My head wasn’t even on the pillow before Luca was at my door.

“We think there is someone inside the house. We heard footsteps.”

I explained that those were most likely my footsteps trying to get back to my room. And we had a fancy security system, so if someone did get in, they were a super spy and we should be honored to be robbed by them. I sent him off to bed.

12.5 seconds later, Luca was back.

“We heard someone trying to open up my door.”

I made a dramatic display of searching every room in the house for the super spy. No spy. Off to bed.

12.5 seconds later, Luca was back.

“(Name Redacted) is scared and he keeps making me scared and we’re all scared.”

Out of desperation, I offered to sleep in the room so I could take the first attack from the super spy, giving them time to escape.

I crawled into bed and was witness to late night 9 year old chatter:

I’m scared. You are a baby. No, you are a baby. I’m sleepy. I’m not sleepy. I’m going to stay up for 4 days. You can’t do that, you’ll die. You suck at Fortnite. No you suck. I totally head-shotted you. Who is the best at Fortnite? Me. Me. Me. What’s your favorite Fortnite dance? Ew (Name Redacted) farted! I farted. Me too. That smells like pepperoni pizza. I want to go play Fortnite.

I sprang out of bed. “Enough! No more talking! No more farting! No more fun! Only sleep!”

I quietly slammed the door and stomped off to bed. I heard giggling farting through the wall.

12.5 seconds later Luca was back.