So tonight at 10:40 p.m. wife.imp and I are sitting in front of the Educational Death Ray (otherwise known as our t.v.) waiting for the internet connection to work when we hear water running in the kitchen.
So, being the worn out adults we actually are, I holler at the phantom noises:
'girl.imp'? - no answer
'boy.imp'? - not answer
I check out wife.imp (who ignores me, obviously thinking 'if I don't make eye contact he will have to go up and check out what the imps are doing to my kitchen...if I don't make eye contact...)
She did not make eye contact. I went upstairs to see what the imps were doing in her kitchen.
boy.imp was standing on the kitchen stool, washing the dirty dish and empty yogurt cup! The only thing he was missing was--the sink.
Yes, b.imp was soaked. Water up to his shoulders. Water running off of the countertop. Water pooling across the floor.
He COULD NOT have been any happier at that moment. Dishes at 'midnight' just tickled his fancy!
So after putting him back in bed, listening to him wail, we brought him downstairs where he decided that the pile of neatly folded laundry needed his 'special' touch!
It was then wife.imp decided that b.imp needed to go back to bed! Stay up late crying? No problem! Flood her kitchen late at night? No Problem! Mess with her folded laundry? WE WILL HAVE ISSUES!!
I however kept my eyes down and thought '...if I don't make eye contact...'
Friday, September 29, 2006
So tonight at 10:40 p.m. wife.imp and I are sitting in front of the Educational Death Ray (otherwise known as our t.v.) waiting for the internet connection to work when we hear water running in the kitchen.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Well, since we crashed and burned last week, I started this week out on the road. Driving. Driving North. Driving East. Driving South. Driving West.
I did so much driving I was tempted buy a riding mower just so I could burn it. (why a riding mower? I have no idea, except that one has to drive it!)
I have listened to almost all the books on tape from the local library, except danielle steele. That could happen soon!
In Other news:
boy.imp was on the potty tonight, talking with wife.imp and just started crying. BIG.TEARS. wife.imp yelled for me and pointed at b.imp.
w.imp: I don't know what happened! We were just fine! He was sitting here talking and then he started crying!
me: 'b.imp', are you fake crying again?
b.imp: (looks at the floor then looks up laughing!!)
It is official folks! We have two burgeoning actors in the family!
Sunday, September 24, 2006
I went jogging (outside not on my treadmill).
Following the sage advice posted in every restaurant restroom from the East Coast to the Left Coast after I visited the Comfort Room, I started to wash my hands.
(However there is nothing shocking here folks. I have been following this routine since I was younger than my own imps. No, it was right around this time that I truly found myself facing the differences between how men and women think.)
I found that we were out of liquid soap. I would have utilized the bar soap in the shower but wife.imp was in the midst of preparing to use said facilities and I did not want to 'get in her way'. So I assessed the situation and determined that exiting the would be preferable to holding up her morning ablutions. Instead, I decided to venture into the kitchen to wash my hands. (see a problem fix a problem)
wife.imp: where are you going? the soap dispenser is full.
me: it is? i thought it was empty
wife.imp: it was but I filled it up earlier this morning...you weren't going to wash your hands because it was empty, were you?
wife.imp: didn't you think to fill it up? (she then pats me on the shoulder and ushers me out of the room -after I had finished washing- as if to say 'you poor deluded fool! on what street corner would you be living if we were not married -- she saw a problem and married him. She is still in the process of fixing said problem...)
I tried to walk up stairs and found out how difficult that little exercise is when you have no stability in your thighs.
Approx. 5 minutes later I found out how much more difficult that maneuver is going down.
I learned to hate my house as every activity (except sitting on the sofa watching football) meant going either up or down the stairs!
wife.imp reiterated how much she 'dislikes' the current length of my burnished, copper locks!
I and the imps spent the afternoon at my parent's house because wife.imp attended the bridal shower of my sister. Much fun was had. Men do not bother asking...your wives might actually tell you (when women play games with their undergarments and you are not involved...do you really need the details?)
My mom and wife.imp came home and discussed (while standing next to me) how great my sister's hair looked. the color of her dress and how mom is sewing on beads, something about other women's clothing...blah blah blah mom: ...so would anybody care for a cup of coffee?
me: (jumping to my feet and almost overturning my chair) I do! Anything to escape the cloud of estrogen that is currently draining the testosterone from my body...
mom: (grumbles something I did not quite catch)
wife.imp: (laughs) reiterates how much she 'dislikes' the current length of my burnished, copper locks!
Sunday night: On the way home, I pop in a cd from one of my books on tape. within minutes girl.imp falls asleep, wife.imp falls asleep. boy.imp sings songs to himself.
a few minutes later:
boy.imp: mommy? ... mommy?? ... MOMMY? MOMMY?
me: mommy is asleep right now.
boy.imp: mommy? are you asleep? mommy? MOMMY?
me: Yes! mommy is asleep?
boy.imp: 'g.imp'? 'g.imp'? daddy, is g.imp asleep?
me: yes, g.imp is asleep.
boy.imp: daddy? can I go to sleep now?
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Today I find myself in the unusual opinion of having to change my opinion. I would like to categorically extend my apologies to Microsoft for the 'deranged' rant I posted earlier this week. In my anger I hastily posted a rant that demeaned the craftsmanship and professionalism of the good workers at Microsoft.
I would like to state that this apology is in no way based on the fact that the very next day after I posted said rant that my computer crashed. Utterly. Completely. Without Hope.
(...be very careful folks! Microsoft is out there and it IS watching!!)
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Warning! This Post has Absolutely Nothing to do with the imps! It is about me and the only downside, outside of being away from the fam, of my career
So I have started back to work and for the most part it is working out. It is not perfect but unlike Pickle's Papa, I am not as shell-shocked as I was the first time this happened. I am basically on the round-about of life and this stop happened to be the doorway back into the rat-race.
However, because I am not an office monkey, I drive. In fact, I sometimes resemble the Fuller Brush Man in that I am driving all day just to knock on peoples' doors. But unlike the brush man, I am not selling and I am not going to be immortalized with slighty humorous and risque stories about my escapades!
However, I am running into the problem of disappearing rural communities. You know those empty, township roads that have nothing but bean/cornfields as far as the eye can see? Well, they have pretty much been developed into non-existance. Why is this the topic of my blog?
Well, in the good, 'ole days, if one was feeling the 'Call of Nature' all one had to do was pull over to the side of the road, trot into the farm field and ....
But now the roads are fairly well traveled...all day long. AND with the extra housing did NOT come convenient bathroom facilities. Just more people able to stop and watch what you are doing in Farmer Brown's field.
And since I do not want Farmer Brown to know what I was doing in his field, a different approach must be made:
1- Either I can leave the rural area and drive 10+ miles to a restroom or use the restroom before arriving in the area.
2- But what happens if you did not feel the urge when you arrive in the area, and after spending an hour and a half convincing someone that a 4,000+ deep hole in their property is a great idea, you suddenly have not only an urge but sever bladder distress?
I have found the solution to this dilemma:
I AM BUYING A MAC THE NEXT TIME I PURCHASE A COMPUTER!!!
My system has been slowly trying to crash for about 1 week now and despite my best efforts Life Support was failing. However last night I decided to bite the bullet and put us all out of my computer's misery and grabbed the 'shock paddles' (otherwise knowna as 'Format C') and applied them vigorously to my system.
And.NOTHING.happened!! HOW THE F*** CAN NOTHING HAPPEN WHEN YOU USE FORMAT F_ING C????
I found out why. Bill Gates and the other demons at Micro-Hell (Dante claimed that there were 9 levels of hell. He was off by 1) made it impossible to 'accidently' type the format command to wipe your hard-drive. How can you accidently type the command to turn your computer into a $1.5K paperweight??
BUT I did find out where they buried the command function! Yes, after 3 hours of searching the file functions and asking wife.imp to prepare the live chickens for sacrifice on the Microsoft Altar, I succeeded.
and as of this post, I have finally gone 'live' again!!
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
wife.imp: hey dad! (yes, that would be me) you have to feel girl.imp's butt! It is FIRM!
I ignored this as wife.imp was probably overtaken by the urge to pinch girl.imp's cheeks. She has been doing this for 6 years, cheeks (face and bum), arms, legs. This is not a form of torture. It is just that she is overcome by a desire to..well the mom's out there should recognize this reaction to being near a baby. This uncontrollable urge is called gi-gil (guee-gueel --the 'u' is silent and the 'g' has the hard 'g' sound).
Two minutes later:
wife.imp: hey dad! YOU have to feel girl.imp's butt! IT is FIRM!
30 seconds later:
(because I was hiding in the kitchen trying not to get sucked into this conversation. Just how does one explain this to the judge? 'those bruises on her butt? No, sir! We would never think about beating our child. No, sir! We just pinch her butt constantly because it is so firm! You should try it! Come on. Right here, there is still some unblemished skin!)
wife.imp: he dad!! YOU really have to feel girl.imp's butt! IT is FIRM!...more like yours (now pinching my butt). boy.imp's is more like mine...more--fluffy. But girl.imp's is TIGHT!
I normally am not phased by wife.imp's desire to pinch the imps. She has these mad cravings every so often but when she pinched my pert bottom I knew the filial duties had been fulfilled for at least one more week...
Monday, September 18, 2006
girl.imp's modis operendi at a restaurant is to: Sit, Kneel, Stand, Lean...repeat.
Then when she knows we have just about reached our last nerve and are about to strangle it, she hops up and finds parents of a newborn (there are always parents of newborns in restuaruants. I believe it is a law that there must be newborns in restaurants to complete that ambience necessary for Family Restaurants) and proceed to compliment the baby.
g.imp then trots back to us witha self-satisfied smile on her face. "Punish me now mom and dad! I dare you. Make me cry for those nice people who think I am the nicest, most well-mannered child they have ever seen! Go on! Dash their hopes!"
When g.imp sits down we usually offer her chips or lemonade. What else can we do?
Last night she added a new twist. She ran ahead to the Comfort Room and stood their waving at us. She needed mommy or daddy to wait outide the door for her. Sooo, daddy started over to man his post. Unfortunately another daddy felt the urge to utilize the facilities and beat me to the hall back to the Comfort Rooms. It was here that g.imp decided to jump out from around the corner and yell, "BOO!!"
Yes the poor man did jump and almost had a full-on bladder release!
We might never eat out again!
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Today the imps put us in our place:
Verbal Smackdown #1:
boy.imp: mommy! I hate daddy!
wife.imp: you hate daddy? why? what did he do to you?
b.imp: Yes! i hate daddy! He's mean to me! He's a mean chicken-head!
wife.imp: he's mean to you?
b.imp: He makes me brush my teeth!
Verbal Smackdown #2:
girl.imp: mommy, you and daddy are meant for each other!
wife.imp: we are?
g.imp: Yes! You never smile. Daddy doesn't smile either, and you both are mean to boy.imp and me!
Here is another gem from the car:
boy.imp: I want a mint! (girl.imp grabbed two from the restaurant as we exited)
girl.imp: here, this is yours.
b.imp: thank you 'girl.imp'
wife.imp: Thank you 'Ate' (ah-tay)
(wife.imp is big on sibling respect. she believes that this is one of the ways in which families stay close and it is traditional in the Philippines. Ate (ah-tay) is the respectful nickname given to older sisters)
girl.imp: what!! I'm right here!
b.imp: thank you, Ate!
Friday, September 15, 2006
Ever have that song pop into your head in the morning and you just cannot stop it from running every other coherent thought out of you mind all day?
Songs that have distracted me recently:
5- Theme to Gilligan's Island
4- Theme to M.A.S.H
3- Mr. Roger's Theme song
2- That 'Law and Order' double note
1- boy.imp singing (and only singing) the following: "...I wanna be a rock star! Get your game on and...I wanna be a rock star! Get your game on and...I wanna be a rock star..!"
glad I could help... : )
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
girl.imp: 'daddy, my vagina is sore and as red as a cherry.'
girl.imp: It stings when I pee. It really hurts.
me: oh, thank you Lord. It's only a rash!
Yep, my 6-year-old imp has a rash and I am jumping for joy. Anybody want to take bets on whether or not I'm an alcoholic by puberty and a babbling, bedridden, fool by high school??
The 'good' news is that g.imp offered wife.imp the exact same news as she entered the house, late and tired, from work.
This episode followed the near-dinner debacle.
After whipping together bbq rib tips, smashed potatoes, steamed-green beans and cornbread (yes, I am that good) I hollered for the imps to 'come an' get it!' Boy.imp came screaming up the stairs and even volunteered to say the prayers. We do have a good, little boy.imp.
Girl.imp was nowhere to be seen. After completing my meal, I peaked down at the t.v. room, on the off chance she had fallen asleep. Nope! Transfixed by the Disney Channel.
me: So...not hungry?
girl.imp:'---' (blank stare then a brilliant smile. "Haha daddy. I just watched another episode of ?? and you did not even know!)
me: ...Cause we're almost done with dinner and since you're not hungry I am about to put the food away.
g.imp: '----' (smile is now gone, waterworks erupt...with quadrophonic sound!)
me: ....of course, boy.imp is still eating and if you were to start before he finishes eating...
g.imp: (quadrophonic sound moves upstairs)
me: ...no, I put the food on the table hot. B.imp came when I called. In fact, I called 2x's and b.imp hollered for you 2x's...Want some cornbread?
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
While watching our team (Cincy) eek out a victory on the diamond tonight, the color analyst brought up Rally Caps.
wife.imp: what are rally caps?
me: Rally Caps? They started with ball players wearing their hats inside out (see above for proper wear of the rally caps) in order to start/or continue a come-from-behind rally...(several minutes later) ...and now fans wear them too.
wife.imp: (merely looks at me, eyebrows raised)
me: Yes! Grown men (and boys) believe in the powers of the inside out hats to help them win games!
wife.imp: oh, I get it.
*******what wife.imp really said: Huh? They actually do this? Really? How sad. Hey, didn't you play baseball when you were younger?
Does it mean anything that I worked up to an adrenaline high while describing the necessity of the Rally Cap and that wife.imp' s response was toneless and she refused to make eye contact?
****FAILED PARENTING ALERT****
I will preface this ancedote with the following: Our parents raised us with the belief it is better to be the person on the 'field of play' for whom others cheer than it is to be on the sidelines doing the cheering.
girl.imp's school sent home homework last night in which the imp had to list some of her wishes for when she 'grows up'. Her number one wish?
'I want to be a cheerleader!'
wife.imp's response: OHHH NOOOOOO!
My response: Cheerleader? That's not a sport!
(Yes I know how tough it is. I took the course in college. Of course I mainly took it to meet girls -- I know, I suck) Wouldn't it be cheaper if she played in a sport and did not cheer for it?
I know. I know. I suck and I am cheap!
Monday, September 11, 2006
The cell phone is definately the tool of devilish hands. It is entirely too convenient to leave safely at home. It has entirely too many useful functions (functions that, much like the time on my VCR, I have not been able to use even with factory printed directions--in English)
Ringtones are too annoying and varied. Stand in a crowded room for 10 minutes and try to keep count of the number of symphonies, rap/rock songs, chirps, scales, school fight songs that erupt around you. Try to keep track of the conversation in which you are a participant with the distraction of the cell phones.
Try to imagine your life without one. I tried and failed. Therefore I make it my mission in life to 'spread the joy' of this perfect little tool with as many people as I can, when I am driving to and from work. My family/friends know when I am working because when I am at home I do not call anybody for any reason unless wife.imp lays down the law!
Why am I rambling on about cell phones? My current phone/service plan are archaic and the phone is falling apart (but I have to wait a couple more months to avoid premature plan cancellation fees). And my imps have discovered the joys of cell phone use.
girl.imp woke up extra early on Saturday and used my cell phone to call her grandparents and wish them Happy Grandparents Day. She also likes the downloadable games.
boy.imp likes to press the buttons, use the camera function and also play the downloadable games.
I have actually decided to encourage this use. I figure by the time they are teens then this will be as annoying to them as it is to me (wishful thinking? It might be as wife.imp tells me I was born to be a cranky, old man).
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Friday, September 08, 2006
I really should be at work. However the ole' tum-tum is still a bit rum-a-tum-tumbily. and as the old rhyme goes, 'Here I sit...'
Anywho two things have really been bothering me.
1) Somehow the school suckered us into trying to sell almost 200 candy bars for girl.imp's first grade class. I am not certain, but I think we are moving up on the deadline and are still on the hook for over $80. However Last night I managed to take a little back from the 'Man'. I sold 3 candy bars to the school librarian! (wife.imp was a little less than supportive as Librarian planned to use the candy to tempt opposing teams into breaking from their diets this allowing her team to win whatever it is they will win.)
2) I am totally not on board with the Stones v. Beatles arugment. Don't get me wrong, I like the British Bands! I love the likes of Gerry and the Pacemakers, Herman's Hermits and the Animals! However if pressed to pick between the Stones or the Beatles, I will have to go with The Who! Yes, The Who. These 'boys' rocked!
Give me a new Who album and consider it purchased sight unseen! And the best song by a British Band in the prior century?
'Under Pressure' by Queen.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
As the new Vice-President of AGPAAS (see Jenny's post 'No Kidding' on the Sept. 4 blog over at Mama Drama. Feel free to use the link on this page), I feel it is time to use my newfound position of authority to improve the intellectual dialogue over here at the playground.
To that end (and I know this conversation was a bit premature as I had not yet received confirmation of my new position with AGPAAS) I decided to open an intellectually stimulating conversation with wife.imp Tuesday night:
me: So do you prefer the episode (M*A*S*H) with Radar only or with Klinger only?
wife.imp: huh, aren't they both the same?
me: (well yeah, except one is semi-psychic and the other is a cross-dresser)...ok how about with Col. Potter v. Col. Blake?
wife.imp: Potter. Blake was just too goofy...I do like Winchester better than that other one...
me: Frank Burns?
wife.imp: yes. He just seems too -- incompetent -- to be a 'real' surgeon.
Yes, we had that conversation. Yes I have not only corrupted the wife.imp to the point she is a baseball fanatic (read: A real Reds fan -- apologies to Chag but if your gonna be a fan, be a fan of a team that started pro ball, not the team that buys it every season) :)
Do you think chag picked up on the mid-market jealously there?
Anywho, I have mentioned before how wife.imp has actively sought out baseball on the radio, sets football on t.v. (without my asking) and even sat through a Dr. Who marathon! It seems now I have her hooked on M*A*S*H Yes, I know this to be true because I have watched her absently flip the channels seeking out this show. I have such a good life here at the playground!
However this is not the worst/best topic we have covered recently. After flipping through 30 odd channels the other night, I popped in the first LOTR movie. About midway through the 'good wizard' and the 'bad wizard' fight (I know...I know just prop your eyelids open a few moments more and I promise you we'll move on). About mid-fight wife.imp asks a leading question about the 'bad wizard's' motivation.
Talk about an open door! The Geek in me could not help but surface and smother all my best intentions to keep the answer short!
Thing is, wife.imp managed to stay awake through my discourse!
Ok, moving on to the last topic of senseless conversation that has recently enthralled us:
Has anybody else lost all respect for Sally Forth as a decision maker? I mean we actually will make tsking sounds and emit moans of discuss with every career decision this 'woman' makes! wife.imp has been driven to such levels of frustration as to actually lecture me (preaching to the choir) and threaten to write the cartoonist to vent her frustration!
Quite honestly I would be happy to sign that letter because he has turned a strong-minded, career-woman into a parody of Walter Mitty (the Walter Mitty at the beginning of the book but without the daydreams). I am even finding that Blondie is a better model of a career woman!
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
girl.imp said her prayers for bed:
...and help make daddy feel better tonight..."
me: I can't give you a hug and kiss because I don't want to get you sick too.
g.imp: that's ok daddy. You can touch my shoulder instead.
me: ok (touching shoulder). Love you.
g.imp: goodnight daddy (hugging shoulder)
I feel better already!
Monday, September 04, 2006
Before I get into last night's sleeping arrangements, I have to relate why I believe boy.imp will be a grease monkey as he grows.
Saturday I was power-washing the front of the 'ole homestead (trying for one last 'buff and polish' prior to the winter grays) and I noticed a definite lack of b.imp. He was gone. So I took off on a fast trot and soon found b.imp in the garage in the process of dismantling my lawn mower. The actual, real, not a toy, uses gas and oil lawn mower. Fortunately he had only just removed the oil cap/dip stick...
Back to the aforementioned sleeping arrangements:
8:30 p.m. Both imps in bed in their separate bedrooms.
9:00 p.m. Both imps in our bed: Awake. Alert. Enthusiastic.
9:30 p.m. Both imps in our bed: girl.imp in her undies only and boy.imp in his diaper only. Awake. Alert. Enthusiastic.
10:30 p.m. Both imps in our bed but asleep.
3:15 a.m. b.imp back in our bed, whining and dressed (with fresh diaper)
3:18 a.m. g.imp standing in our door, still only in her undies.
3:18:15 a.m. g.imp, b.imp, wife.imp and I crowded into our full-sized (again there is nothing wrong with your eyes here) bed.
3:20 a.m. I am in b.imp's bed, wife.imp, b.imp & g.imp share the master bed.
3:21 a.m. b.imp throws a fit and moves to his bed with me.
3:22 a.m. b.imp throws a fit and wants everyone to move to his bed.
3:25 a.m. g.imp moves to b.imp's bed with me and b.imp (wife.imp gets to sleep in peace)
3:45 a.m. I pass out
5:30 a.m. I wake up, freezing cold because g.imp and b.imp share all pillows and covers
5:30:01 a.m. I move to the couch with spare comforter--toasty warm at last!
We really, really, really need to learn how to use the door locks!!
For those of you with lots of siblings, do you remember the days in your youth when you shared the tub with one or more sibs?
Tonight might just be the last night our imps share a bath. Not only because g.imp (being 4 years the elder) is developing faster...well yes, entirely because she is developing faster. I washed both imps without an incident and had turned to grab the towels:
Me: Stand up and get ready to get out...
g.imp: not yet...not before I suck the milk out of your boobie
b.imp: (shrieks with laughter)
I turn and found g.imp firmly latched onto b.imp's right nipple
I think I need a drink. Something that has triple digits in front of the word 'proof' and somewhere in the description should be the words 'wood grain' or 'white lightening'
Sunday, September 03, 2006
The imps acted as if they never have been allowed to leave the house or that they have been raised in a barn. Fidgety would be a classic understatement.
girl.imp spoke, in what can only generously be called, LOUD stage whispers, sat on the pew, sat on the floor, kicked the feet of the girl sitting in front of her, alternately hugged me or wife.imp and tried to catch the eye of the boy sitting two rows in front of us. He is in her class in First Grade.
boy.imp wanted to run his car on the back of the pew in front of us or try to jam the medium-sized car into the book holder attached to the back of the self-same pew. Imagine a round peg that is being hammered into a square hole one size too small and you can almost hear the noise being made. When he wasn't trying to disprove proven scientific facts, he was concerned over the time we were spending away from the house.
During every break or pause for breath, b.imp would ask the congregation (in the self-same loud stage whisper being used by girl.imp): "Is it over?" or "Can we go now?" or "Are we done yet?" and to top off the embarrassment for us, "Are we done, can we go party now?"
I am beginning to think we will need an armed escort from the angelic ranks to get myself and wife.imp pass the Pearly Gates...
We have round two on the vocab list -- approx 25 words. It took girl.imp around 10 seconds to read them, only because she was going so fast that she had to:
a) stop for breath
b) go back and read three words that she skipped (and continue from that point forward).
I am thinking with the difficulty level ratcheted up this high for g.imp's classes, I might have to enforce her new bedtime rules and allow her to watch 'the Late Show with David Letterman' in its entirety. Perhaps I'll allow her to drink a little gin and smoke unfiltered cigs to ensure she is not bored in class.
OOOOOR, I could go with wife.imp's suggestion and start having g.imp spell these words...
Friday, September 01, 2006
Sometimes I have this dream where I wrap layers of duct-tape over the imps mouths:
There is nothing like sitting in a crowded restaurant and having boy.imp stand up in his high chair and announce to all and sundry "I tooted!"
It was after this 'restrained' announcement that wife.imp prompted girl.imp to tell me about her dream. Well first she was upset that I did not sleep in her bed last night:
...but her dream was that she was taking a bath and I came into the bathroom, whipped 'it' out and started peeing in the toilet. Then I noticed a virus on girl.imp and started to pee on the virus (an by default, on g.imp as well), which then jumped from g.imp into the toilet where I peed on it ending its brief existence...
There are so many images in this dream that have freaked me out that I cannot begin to address them.
Not here anyway.
I might just have enough to start therapy sessions tho'.