Close Your Eyes and Imagine the Sights and Sounds of a High-Pressure Hose...

I have a pressure washer that puts out something like 1400 psi. I can alternately use it to clean the siding on our house, wash the cars, strip paint from the deck and/or said cars (I have not harmed the paint on the cars yet, but I know I could if I wanted to) and carve my name in the asphalt on the driveway.

I mention this because now the boy.imp is potty trained, I have been wondering how his diapers actually survived. I swear with the pressure this imp generates while peeing, b.imp could actually be used as a replacement for the pressure washer for all the above said tasks. Watching him pee (yes, he does sometimes need some parental oversite as I do not wish to mop the bathroom floor on a daily basis), I would be willing to put money down on how fast he could use the pee stream to bore a hole through the porcelain bowl.

Also, on this whole potty training issue, how can a three-year old boy and a seven-year old girl produce such large poopbergs. Even the imp-laws commented on the oversized waste mounds. I mean cows would turn their heads away in shame upon glimpsing these massive mounds of fly buffets. I pray, at least twice weekly, to have a bowl movment that feels as satisfactory as what their every day production yields!

I'm All Poo'ed Out

I cannot remember the last time I had a nice, satisfying, solid poo. Ok, first let me say that after my computer crashed, the fam went to the Philippines. Today we returned. It's been almost two weeks and still no solid poo.

I do have to add that with almost 2 weeks of explosive, fluid draining poo, stomach cramps (turns out there was this infection thing going on in the lower abdomen) and liquid meals (with crackers), I have managed to not only reign in my expanding waistline, but to lose a large portion of it.

I believe it started at a beach. Actually it was a coral reef about an hour boat ride from a beach located in Bohol, to be precise. Not that the good folks at the resort have asked me for a precise accounting.

To be perfectly honest about the resort staff, I cannot point the 'Finger of Blame' at them, their food or anyone but me. The resort itself was located in a beautiful region and was very well managed.
If it were possible to describe the reddish-orange fires that bled softly across the horizons as the sun dipped 'into' the sea or the pinkish blossoms of fire that announced the imminent arrival of the Yellow Daystar, then I would try.

However lacking this ability to fuse memory with words, I will merely stress that this is a great resort!

(bear with this slight bend in the road)
I am not now, nor have I ever been, a fan of diet foods or food diets. I hunger, I eat. I do acknowledge (now) that a certain restraint in my diet should be executed. Since restraint was not know in my earlier dietary habits and excercise is such a slow way to go, I needed an edge--something that might give me a boost.

I might have mentioned Bohol is near this amazing reef. We went snorkling at this reef. This reef ends at a very steep precipice. There was an amazing abundance of life and color in and around this reef that bled out into a gray green over the precipice and just out of reach a Sea Turtle decided to cruise the area. It gracefully glided over the edge of the precipice for almost 20 minutes, just to prove that it could ignore us.

How cool is that!

'Ummm, dennis? The reef sounds interesting and so interesting we'd like to hire a boat (ask for the oweners of the John Michael) and visit the reef ourselves. But how does this magical interlude about heaven on Earth connect with Rizal's Revenge??

Rizal's Revenge, gentle readers? Do not tell me that you have never heard of Jose Rizal? In fact, I have so much respect for this man and what he accomplished that I withdrawel the moniker Rizal's Revenge in favor of TFMR (the Filipino Monezeuma's Revenge).

Yes, while snorkling I imbibed 1/2 a boatful of seawater and soon thereafter began suffering from what we hillbillies call 'The Green Apple Quickstep'.

Sleeping through my errands and Target the new Port-o-Let of Parents with toddler imps?

How can one ascertain 100 percent that something is not quite well? Let's say that if you fall asleep at the wheel (while parked) in line at a 'quickie' oil change facility. Yes friends that was me yesterday. However the kind employees of said facility allowed my nap to stretch to 10 minutes.

(they apparantly took bets on how long I would actually sleep but when I stayed asleep it was decided that they needed to actually do some work, so someone had to tap on the window to wake me up)


Did you know Target is a cure-all to constipation? Wife.Imp noticed. No, she was not the one in need.

Boy.imp is the recipient of the newly-discovered, curative powers of Target. It seems no matter the day, time of day, or even if he just had his diapers changed. He will fill them 'to the brim' when shopping at Target.

Of course this also could mean that somehow Target has affected his psyche and now just being in the store literally scares the crap out of b.imp..?

You Know You Wanted to Hear More from Boy.Imp..

Dissed by boy.imp:
After his bath Monday night, boy.imp decided to question me on the color of his socks:

b.imp: what color are my socks
me: ummm gray
b.imp: blah blah blah, no they're not
(walking over to his dresser and pulling out pants)
b.imp: these are gray and these, daddy are you looking? Daddy, you need to listen to me! These pants are gray and these pants are gray. My socks are darker. So they cannot be gray. They are black! Not.Gray. Black!
me: smiling (you suck)

Tuesday Troubles:
Just before sitting down for dinner b.imp requested a diaper change. So off to his bedroom where he demands that we wait. He is not quite done filling the diaper. So he stands next to his bed, leaning on the mattress with his eyes scrunched tight and proceeds to grunt.

Me: hoooookaaaay! Call me when you're done.

Multi-tasking at bathtime:
In order to push boy.imp into his pj's faster (hence to bed sooner), I brushed his teeth while he was in the shower. Now, if I can only figure out a way to clip his nails at the same time...

Wednesday Woes:
Last night I walked into the house and remembered it was trash day. So I start policing the house in preparation of taking that last bag to the trash can and hauling the whole, lumping mess down to the end of the drive.

b.imp: Daddy! The floor is got mud on it. Daddy you put mud all over the floor!
(yes, boy.imp should have been in bed. yes, boy.imp is PO'd!)
me: Ok, I'll clean it up in a minute
b.imp: Mommy! Daddy put mud all over the floors. Mommy, daddy made a mess
me: ok...OK! I'm cleaning it up! Go back to bed.
b.imp: ok. Goodnight daddy.
me: (smiling) goodnight...(you suck)

Hip Hop Mass and That Smell Just Lingers

Girl.Imp is enrolled in a local Catholic School. Yes, the White Devil is trying to brain-wash his imps.

So, along with the standard 3 R's, g.imp needs to prove she knows a little about the Faith. To that end, there are occassional verbal quizzes.

Q: What does it mean to put your hands in Orans Position??
(No, this is not a position from the Kama Sutra! Orans means to place the elbows to the side with hands raised with palms out)
girl.imp: Raise the roof baby! Oh yeah! Oh yeah!
(elbows by her ears, palms above head facing the ceiling--pumping arms up and down)

Somehow I do not see the Pope 'goin' street' and incorporating this gesture into the Mass...


Sooo boy.imp has a new tradition. If you are eating breakfast now--stop.
We have a nightly ruckus around his bedtime, which is loosely between 8:30 and Midnight, give or take 20-30 minutes.

So after we brush the teeth, read the story, hug and kiss 8-9 times (his choice), find socks for his feet because only real men wear socks to bed, get him that glass water because his whining has left his throat dry, we head to the t.v. room to unwind infront of the Educational Death Ray.

15 minutes later we hear the cry:
g.imp: ewwwwwwwwe

the patter of slow footsteps

b.imp: mommy? daddy?
me: What?
b.imp: My diaper needs changed!
me: come here (please let him have only peed! Please, oh please, oh please!)

Nope. Bimp's arrival is preceded by an odor only Mike Rowe (of Dirty Jobs) could love.
Does wife.imp notice?

Nope. Not until the diaper has been changed and disposed. Then she looks up and wrinkles her nose (lightning reflexes there!) and usually says something like:

wife.imp: I'm hungry. Should I have (can you get me?) popcorn?


Oh, I almost forgot the 'Matt Damon Factor' to increase my blog presence

As Heard at the Playground This Weekend

Saturday:
(I was visiting with my parents, hooking their house up for wireless internet)

girl.imp: mommy! Mommy, boy.imp pooped and needs his diaper changed!
wife.imp: (insert text here --b.imp's diaper was off by the time wife.imp arrived on the scene. In her words, the diaper was empty and the pile that lay on the bathroom carpet looked like ear of corn that had been burnt on the grill)

Sunday:
b.imp: I want medicine (g.imp has strep and was taking her meds)
me: You're not sick. You don't need medicine.
b.imp: I want medicine too!
me: You're not getting medicine. In order for you to get this, your throat would have to really hurt.
g.imp: yeah, but your throat will only hurt for the first two days. After that it won't hurt anymore but you will have a cough and runny nose.
b.imp: I want strep phroat!! (running out of the room and wailing--VERY.LOUD)


New This Week:
Wife.Imp's Video Pic: "White and Nerdy" by Weird Al Yankovic

What Frat Should We Be Looking For?

Earlier tonight, I was blithly yammering on the phone with my elder sib, girl.imp was coloring on the couch next to me.

Gee Dennis, this sounds like one of your tangents. You seem to be moving a little off focus. Well I would have to agree with you. However this point is appropriate because she was watching boy.imp, right before he walked up to me...

b.imp: Here daddy! Smell my finger!
(I want to stress, b.imp is only 3-years-old. He should NOT be doing this...well, at least not to me! This is something that he should be doing in 3rd grade! Like when I was in 3rd grade and one of my classmates unzipped his pants and ran down the hall, chasing the girls, will his thumb hanging out of his pants!!)
me: Wha? Oh. OH.MY.GOD!! What did you do? Stick your finger in your butt?
b.imp: (laughing) Yes!!

and what did my elder sib and beautiful girl.imp do? They.Laughed. They laughed until they started to choke and cry!! Then laughed some more.

Let's update the Three Wise Monkeys

It is time to make a stand. The 'Speak No Evil' Monkey has seen its time come and go. In our playground we have seen the rise of another wise Monkey.

It started in the the morning in our mouths, grew in the laundry and in our clothes and got stronger in the kitchen, but finally acheived full potency with boy.imp's diapers.

You know those times when bad odors compete for attention in the house.

Morning breath: Ok, we adults know we have it. And we deal. But just about the time the Good Lord put odors in the diapers he also decided that bad smells out of the other end would also be a neat trick!

First thing in the morning, our imps could knock a buzzard off of a shit wagon at 20 paces!

Laundry/body odor: Imps, daylight, the great outdoors. 'Nuff said.

Kitchen: There are the times when you go to cook dinner and are just browning the garlic ('aint nothing better in the kitchen than the smell of browned garlic -- unless it is freshly baked bread) and the imps start screaming because one of them looked cross-eyed at the other's toy...then by the time you get things settled, the garlic has burned and your spouse walks in the front door...

'Yuuuck! what is that smell. I could smell it in the driveway. It smells like someone is burning sewage...'

Cheers mate!

The spouse, wife.imp, who can smell burning food from 2.6 miles away, seems unable to smell a 'loaded diaper'. I have tried several tactics to test her disability. Burning food? She is on it!

Bad Breath? On it!
Body Odor? On it!
Bad smells in the laundry? On it!

BM in boy.imp's diaper? He can do anything short of taking it off and shaking the contents out at her feet and she cannot smell a thing! and I have TRIED to out last her...

I can be gasping my way down our stairs and see b.imp sitting on w.imp's lap, at her feet playing or just running in circles and she looks as if nothing were amiss. Plants are wilting at her elbows, tears are forming in my eyes and girl.imp is trying to shove her nose into her armpits and ....Nothing!

Except that boy.imp now has a diaper rash...

I have seen the light! I am now converted and am now a fulltime supporter of shaking up the accepted tradition of the Wise Monkeys! I fully support and am instigating the campaign to speed the rise of the newest Wise Monkey. The 'Smell No Evil' Monkey.

Yes, dear readers, here at the playground we have risen up and deposed Iwazaru. We are now ruled by the wise insights of:

'See No Evil', 'Hear No Evil', and

'Smell No Evil'.

Monkey photo originially posted at: http://www.tanmonkey.com/funny-monkey-pictures.php

What is the one thing you do not want to happen...

...when changing your imp's diaper?

No answers 1 and 2 are not correct.

No the worst thing to happen when changing your imp's diaper is when you raise its butt to put the clean diaper under the imp--you know, when the little fannie is pointed practically directly straight at your nose--you are greeted with the worst of all sounds...followed by the rankest of all smells that have ever been smelled (without the arrival of any physical evidence)...and you still have to hang around and put on the clean diaper because if you let go of the little one's feet you are going to involved in a 10-minute 'catch as you catch can' race...

My secret weapon is #2

Girl.imp went for her first martial arts (Modern Arnis) lesson and really seemed to enjoy it. But if she were to quit now, I would not have any fear of her future safety.

g.imp: Daddy? That smell--I tootied!!
me: (gagging) do you have to use the bathroom?
g.imp: nope! I just tootied!
g.imp: (evil grin) I just tootied again!
me: (looking around at the near empty room - where are the crowds of parents when you neeeeeeed them?) Just go to the bathroom!
g.imp: Ok!

Later during g.imp's class:

me: boy.imp! Did you just...? Do you need your diaper changed?
b.imp: (grabbing is diaper and backing away) No! I'm a big boy now!
me: Right. (again, why is the room nearly empty when you really really want to blame the smell on somebody else's imp?) It smells like a rotting, skunk carcass crawled out of your...Let's go change your diaper...

That's right folks! There is no fear from the baddies in the big cities. Muggers, thieves, killers--Come get yourself some of this! IF you think you can handle the smell!!

Monday: We witnessed Floriday play a high school team. 'Nuff said.

Tuesday: Cannot remember Tuesday. Lots of driving tho'

Wednesday: We went to girl.imp's school for a field trip. We saw 'A Year with Frog and Toad'. It must be a very old play, because the male leads (Frog and Toad) were very, very chummy. What our grandparents' parents would have called good pals...Today we would refer to a closet...

Thursday: wife.imp told me that boy.imp is beginning to mature. He has recently been proclaiming '...I am not a little boy! I am a big boy!' But now he has taken it a step further. When we ask him if he needs his diaper changed he runs away screaming that he did not soil his diaper. So then if we ask him if he wants to stop using diapers and start wearing underwear...

boy.imp: You can stop asking questions. Stop asking questions now!