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Party blues
Friday, February 23rd, 2007 07:47 pmThe Impossible Son is driving me nuts. Okay, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't had to deal with a cranky child with a sore ear all day, who didn't want to take his ear drops until it hurt so bad he was in tears, and had to be tricked into taking a nap when he was all pale and droopy and struggling to keep his eyes open. I'm exhausted, anyone want to take over?
Anyway, the Impertinent Daughter was invited to a birthday party today and it was literally right after school. So, we got home, I carried Mr. Droopy in, and got busy helping Miss Priss get ready for her party. When I returned to the living room, ready to go, I found Mr. Manzie had made himself comfortable on the couch, and y'all know what THAT means. Yes, the Sensitive Naked Young Man had made a reappearance. *sigh* So, it was find the pajamas (which say, appropriately enough "Caution: I do all my own stunts"), get them on a grumpy, reluctant six year old, tuck him under my arm with his new blanket, get in the car while eyeing the mockingbirds in the tree nervously, and go.
I thought he'd be happy to have me to himself for another four hours. Nope. Every five minutes, he popped off the couch, or out of the bedroom to say, "Isn't it time to get my sister yet?" Or, "It's nine o'clock, right?" (it was five). He wants her home, even though she drives him crazy, picks on him, ignores him... he just wants her around.
The Husbandly One is hanging out with him right now to give me a bit of a break. I don't want to see what they're doing. For all I know, they're naked together. After all, the Impossible Son got the Nudity Gene from his father, so... why not?
In other exciting news, during the nap I tricked Mr. Manzie into, I flopped down on the couch to vegetate to a little television, and found myself watching a documentary called, "Why We Fight," which is only related to the World War II series John Ford filmed in the forties only in that some of the footage he used for those films were used to illustrate some points. As I sat there, staring blankly at the faces of these WWII era soldiers, one face popped up that looked eerily familiar to me. He wasn't looking at the camera at first, but staring into the distance, deep in thought. He was wearing a helmet on his head, and his face was slightly dirty and he looked tired. I thought, "Geez, that guy looks a lot like my son." And then it hit me. OMG!!! THAT'S MY DAD!!!
As I stared at this face, he turned to look at the camera, and I was stunned. It was most definitely my dad. My father. I looked down at the collar and there it was, the USMC globe and anchor and I thought, geez, it happened again! That's the second time I've been looking at a documentary with World War II footage in it and seen my father. I was born rather late in his life. He was forty when I showed up, a surprise to two people who thought all the gamma radiation he had been exposed to during the fifties while working in the oil fields had damaged his ability to have kids. Of course, this might explain why I'm such an oddball in this family. Because I'M A MUTANT!!
Speaking of my parents, they are dealing with A Rat. A Very Large Rat. A Rat that has tried to eat their washing machine. It ate a hole into a vacuum tube or something, which necessitated a call to a repair man, who very kindly did NOT report it as a rodent caused problem. This would have negated their warranty or something, since the machine is not even a year old. I offered them the use of our live trap, but my dad is determined. The Rat Must Die. He tried to eat their washing machine, after all, and has hoards of dog food all over the house. I told him that at that point, they should name it and buy it a collar. Make it part of the family.
I'm glad he laughed.
Ah, I hear the Kid Siren going off. It must be time to finally let Mama put the pain killing drops in his ear. Back to the salt mines. *sigh*
Anyway, the Impertinent Daughter was invited to a birthday party today and it was literally right after school. So, we got home, I carried Mr. Droopy in, and got busy helping Miss Priss get ready for her party. When I returned to the living room, ready to go, I found Mr. Manzie had made himself comfortable on the couch, and y'all know what THAT means. Yes, the Sensitive Naked Young Man had made a reappearance. *sigh* So, it was find the pajamas (which say, appropriately enough "Caution: I do all my own stunts"), get them on a grumpy, reluctant six year old, tuck him under my arm with his new blanket, get in the car while eyeing the mockingbirds in the tree nervously, and go.
I thought he'd be happy to have me to himself for another four hours. Nope. Every five minutes, he popped off the couch, or out of the bedroom to say, "Isn't it time to get my sister yet?" Or, "It's nine o'clock, right?" (it was five). He wants her home, even though she drives him crazy, picks on him, ignores him... he just wants her around.
The Husbandly One is hanging out with him right now to give me a bit of a break. I don't want to see what they're doing. For all I know, they're naked together. After all, the Impossible Son got the Nudity Gene from his father, so... why not?
In other exciting news, during the nap I tricked Mr. Manzie into, I flopped down on the couch to vegetate to a little television, and found myself watching a documentary called, "Why We Fight," which is only related to the World War II series John Ford filmed in the forties only in that some of the footage he used for those films were used to illustrate some points. As I sat there, staring blankly at the faces of these WWII era soldiers, one face popped up that looked eerily familiar to me. He wasn't looking at the camera at first, but staring into the distance, deep in thought. He was wearing a helmet on his head, and his face was slightly dirty and he looked tired. I thought, "Geez, that guy looks a lot like my son." And then it hit me. OMG!!! THAT'S MY DAD!!!
As I stared at this face, he turned to look at the camera, and I was stunned. It was most definitely my dad. My father. I looked down at the collar and there it was, the USMC globe and anchor and I thought, geez, it happened again! That's the second time I've been looking at a documentary with World War II footage in it and seen my father. I was born rather late in his life. He was forty when I showed up, a surprise to two people who thought all the gamma radiation he had been exposed to during the fifties while working in the oil fields had damaged his ability to have kids. Of course, this might explain why I'm such an oddball in this family. Because I'M A MUTANT!!
Speaking of my parents, they are dealing with A Rat. A Very Large Rat. A Rat that has tried to eat their washing machine. It ate a hole into a vacuum tube or something, which necessitated a call to a repair man, who very kindly did NOT report it as a rodent caused problem. This would have negated their warranty or something, since the machine is not even a year old. I offered them the use of our live trap, but my dad is determined. The Rat Must Die. He tried to eat their washing machine, after all, and has hoards of dog food all over the house. I told him that at that point, they should name it and buy it a collar. Make it part of the family.
I'm glad he laughed.
Ah, I hear the Kid Siren going off. It must be time to finally let Mama put the pain killing drops in his ear. Back to the salt mines. *sigh*
