It is Cleaning Day Friday

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...'

dropping off of the face of the earth

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!

Back to the NORMAL weekend ROUTINE here at the Playground

Friday:
I went jogging (outside not on my treadmill).

Saturday:
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?
me: uhmm
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...)

Saturday Afternoon:
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!

Sunday:
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?

Microsoft, I apologize

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!!)

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:

12 Hours of Futile Cursing Later

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!!

I Caught Wife.Imp grabbing Girl.Imp's Rear

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...