Orange County Register

Today seems ripe for a few updates:

Fat dads: It’s been nearly two weeks without my daily chocolate fix — if you don’t count the fat-laden ice cream sundae on, well, Sunday, and the fat-free frozen yogurt (no toppings) on Saturday.

The family has hit the beach once, gone for two walks, played soccer, swingball, a little tennis, run through sprinklers and tossed around a whiffle ball. Kids are in daily swim lessons.  And I actually ran on my treadmill one day. So things are off to a slow, but fun beginning. They say it takes something like five weeks to break or make a habit, so three and half to go.

Bugs: My daughter’s summer school program is all about bugs. The theme at her school is science, which for 4-year-olds appears to involve counting the legs on little critters, examining them through microscopes and then creating a delicious snack based on them.

So far, she’s devoured ants on a log (celery with cream cheese and raisins on top), ladybugs (cream cheese again, covered with honey, raisins for spots and pretzels for antennae) and worms in dirt (gummi worms and pudding.)

Hmm, seems like maybe her school is working against the Summer of Fitness

More bugs: Claire and I helped out today by catching a whole slew of real worms in our yard — including some of Claire’s favorites, the real wriggly ones. I’m just hoping none of them get mixed up with the snack.

Summer school blues: Claire has cried during dropoff twice this week. She loves the school, but also likes staying and playing with her mom and dad. That doesn’t bode well for the transition to daily school in fall. She always stops the moment we leave, but it’s still one of those gripping deals — you want her to get over it, but you’re secretly flattered that she loves you so much. So worry she’ll never stop and we worry that she will.

And that brings us to reading: Claire made some huge strides this week in her summer reading practice. She actually sounded out three words all on her own. We’re still working with the short “a” rhyming words, so wish me luck as we progress.

I detest summer.

Oh, not the long, excruciatingly hot days, sandal-wearing, trips to the beach, spraying kids with the hose, slip-n-sliding, and all the other classic summer events.

But I hate that my kids can go 2 1/2 months without any intellectual stimulation. You might as well open a hole in their heads and watch everything they learned in the last year start to pour out.

Of course, being who I am, I can’t sit idly by.

I ”structure” up summer — creating what I see as a balance of summer camps, free time and and activities, including the library’s summer reading program and those great summer activity workbooks.

My son used to groan when he’d see me pawing through the selections at Barnes and Noble and Borders. And the first couple weren’t all that great.

But eventually, I found some better options — a good variety of activities designed to keep them remembering the stuff they did the previous year and ensure their brains don’t slump. Kumon, especially, has good books for the pre-K kids, while the Summer Skills series has a good variety of activities for older grades.

Oh, my son still groans, but not as much.

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I’ve heard many guys hail their hammers, drone on about their drills. I’ve heard them gush over grinders and tally up their screwdrivers’ many thrills. But my vice grip has them all beat — rescuing me at the last minute, nice and neat.

It’s nearly as versatile as duct tape. Power incarnate.

Let me illustrate. A few years back, the handle on my ancient truck’s tailgate snapped off. How to fix? A replacement would have cost an outrageous sum for a small piece of plastic. But my vice grip did the task for free — clasp and grasp, and bam, tailgate open. When I sold the truck, the vice grip was included in the price — and I got to buy a new one (vice grip, not truck).

Then, on a recent holiday, my sister-in-law manhandled our new stove, and popped off the plastic handle. I tried to fix it, but the slot had been stripped. Making matters worse, without the handle, the entire door assembly began to separate — glass here, insulation there. And, of course, there was food cooking away.

I called on my vice grip, of course. Into the fray it went. Snap — and the door is one piece. Snap — and we have an instant handle.

It worked wonderfully until I could rejigger the handle to stay in place. Then off went the vice grips — back to the laundry room where they serve as the handle on the dryer’s controls (replacement cost: $25).

Like I said, with vice grips alone I could rule the world, or at least temporarily fix it when it breaks down.