Thursday, August 21, 2008

Sir Elton John(son)

David the Rockstar, age 2. Instead of alcohol, it's Kool-Aid. It's his finger, not cocaine, that's going up his nose. He does not yet rebel against his parents; he actually thinks they're pretty cool. Well, at least Papa.

I came home to a laundry list of chores to do. One of them was to replace a broken lightbulb in one of our bedroom lamps. No problem - even I could do this. I went to our lightbulb drawer, got out a replacement and managed not to electrocute myself while swapping out the old bulb. I flipped the switch. Nothing. Shit.

My first reaction was to call Opa, but then I opted for just a tad more troubleshooting. I took the new bulb and tried it in another lamp. It worked. My mind raced into overdrive and told me this would indicate that the bulb was not the source of the problem. My logical thinking skills kicked in and I narrowed the problem down to the lamp itself. That tricky bastard.

Now, armed with the knowledge that the lamp, not the bulb, was at the core of the problem, I tried to take it one step further. At this point I had to sit down on the bed since prolonged thinking makes me lightheaded. As I sat down, my foot kicked the cord to the lamp. To make a dumb story stupid, the lamp was not plugged in.

And the morale of this story: if your wife asks you to do anything, just laugh at her.

My next 'chore' was to go play with the kids. In Mom-talk, that translates to 'the monsters have been driving me freakin' mad all day - it's your turn, since you have obviously had nothing but fun at work today. I don't care what you do with them as long as it is not within earshot of the house. Bye.'

Before leaving, I noticed teeth marks on David's hand. Despite knowing better, I asked. I guess at some point during the day, David pulled Peter's hair. In the traditional 'a head for an eye', Peter retaliated by trying to eat David's hand. I told Angie that feeding Peter more at lunch might avoid that in the future. Her only response was the stare and I suddenly had the feeling that Angie might bite me, so I left.

We went to the playground where I invented a new game where I pelted the boys in the head with their rolled up socks. I found it fun. They found it fun. Some of the other moms at the playground may be having a few words with Angie next time they see her.

As I tucked the kids into bed, I flipped the switch on their globe night-light. It came on without a problem and I had to smile. If only my normal 'chores' were always as simple as plugging shit in and playing with the kids.
[David was too tired to make it on the ladder tonight]
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I went to the playground with the new game - the one where you throw socks.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When David pulled my hair and I bit him on the hand and then Mama yell at me.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To go to the playground and play that game again.

No comments:

Post a Comment