Sunday, September 6, 2009

Generation Smackdown

Nothing like a headbutt from Tommy to start your Sunday. At least Opa seemed to enjoy his; I didn't. But then again, mine came at four o'clock in the morning by a weird looking kid with only six teeth who thoroughly enjoyed the 'surprised-angry' faces that Papa was making. Even Mama woke up long enough to laugh at me before both her and Zidane Jr. fell asleep again, leaving me to seriously reconsider our sleeping arrangements as I ice-packed my nose.

At least Peter and David sleep in every now and then. Okay, bullshit. David doesn't; he still gets up at dawn-thirty. The scary thing is - he's very quiet. After following the trail of candy wrappers littering the hallway and finding a kid that looked like he had french-kissed a tin of shoe-polish, it became clear.

As the sugar buzz gripped hold of him, stealthy Dave wasn't so silent anymore. Peter snored his ass off as David began dancing on his bed and wailing like a banshee. Aw, isn't that cute? Peter must take after Mama.

It doesn't take much to wake a hibernating bear if you know the right technique. After cohabitating with a grizzly woman for almost ten winters, I'm like freakin' Dan Haggerty, just without the disgusting beard that a flock of birds could nest in.

Like some Indian snake charmer in reverse, I awoke Peter with a single word: Carnival.

Carnival can mean a lot of things to different weirdos. For me, it means having carny folk with less teeth than Tommy charge me 10 bucks for blowing up a balloon that I could normally buy for 10 cents. For Peter and David, it means 'The Swing Ride'.

As David was preparing for what would surely be the biggest high of his day since raiding the candy bowl while Mama and Papa snoozed away the sunrise, Peter was getting a little nervous about the safety of his ride.

'Papa, look! This bar can go up.'

'Yeah, please don't show David that.'

'But what if I fly out?'

'Well, if you do, make sure and land in those bushes over there.'


'Sorry, buddy - the ride's starting. My advice....don't lift the bar.'

You might wonder where Mama was during all this fatherly chit-chat with Mr. Safety. Strangely enough, Peter kept asking the same question. Well, she was busy having a cup of gossip with Barbara. The good news is - Peter did not fly to his death from 'The Swing Ride'.

Peter the Brave was on such an adrenaline roll after surviving 'The Death Swing' that he chose the 'Dragon of Terror' as his next ride. It was a roller coaster that David loved because it was red. And it was a dragon.

David was not so happy that it went slightly faster than a snail being chased by a caterpillar, but Peter somehow managed to still have fun. At least David got to pick the next ride.

I was a little surprised to see David riding in the front. Somehow, I have always pictured him riding in the back of a paddy wagon. His fascination with the police probably has to do with him wanting to carry a nightstick, which ain't gonna happen under this roof.

Speaking of rooves, check out where David's 10-dollar SpongeBob balloon ended up after a whopping four minutes of telling him to hold onto the damn thing.

I laughed. He cried. Peter freaked out and ran inside to announce to Grams and Opa, along with half of the restaurant, that David's balloon was stuck in the gutter. Thanks, Dan Rathers - now back to Jane for the weather.

The weather was slightly overcast with a slight chance of Angie freaking out on her Dad because he commented that Tom had dropped a spoon and she was starting her new job the next day. You don't need to tell me that this makes no sense at all; I live with her. Welcome to my world. Okay, to be fair to Angie the stickler, it was David, not Tom, who dropped the spoon. But thanks for ignoring the black clouds, Opa.

If there was a black cloud over David's brain, it would have read: 'Dude, where's my balloon?'

I could tell you, but it's probably easier if you just look at the picture before last. Peter was very sympathetic, though, which I initially thought was rather mature of him.

'Dude, check out my new transformer car! It's almost as cool as your SpongeBob balloon... hey, where is that again? Oh, that's right - you lost it. Too bad. I tied my Spiderman balloon to the stroller, so I still have mine. You can smell it if you want.'

Tommy also felt really bad. So bad, in fact, that he had Barb help him write a 'Dude, don't feel so bad about your balloon' card.

It read:

'Dude, I'm actually not sorry about your balloon. I know I probably should be, but you see - the last time you sat on my head - that time when you were laughing like a freakin' lunatic - I think you may have inadvertently damaged my 'I-give-a-shit' brain cells. I'm sure this was not intentional and that you would probably be sorry about that if it weren't for the fact that Peter sat on your head when you were young and full of 'I-give-a-shit' brain cells like me before you sat on me. Opa taught me a little trick, though, and Dude - if you come near me again, I am going to headbutt you into next Sunday.'
Ladder Talk:
[No ladder talk for Davey - he spent the night with Grams and Opa for some one-on-one headbutting lessons]
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I get a balloon from Spiderman.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I couldn't play Spiderman with David 'cause he is sleeping by Grams and Opa.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: I want to play with you an experiment to see what floats and what not floats.

1 comment:

  1. Hint, whilst Angie is slurping coffee with said sister, she has some expectation that you are keeping her offspring safe. Oh how deluded we females can be. Bars up, boys!