Frankensnow

Holy shit, Scott! I don't know what the hell happened to your skull, but I'd hate to see the other girl. By the way, Mary Shelly called and she'd like her neck plugs back.

You're probably wondering how we ended up in a pub with the Modern Prometheus. Aside from staring, we were there to also say auf Wiedersehen to Scarface, who was going back to the States, provided Homeland security lets him in.

Before the freaky farewell, the freaks watched soccer.

It all started when Barb and Armin stopped by and convinced us to take our kids to an Irish pub and watch soccer. I was so totally against the idea, but Angie was wearing pants again, so we went. Period. End of discussion. I had NO choice in the matter. Angie shouted 'Drink!' and I asked 'how much?'. The cool thing is that Angie and I know each other so well that she didn't even need to answer - I just made certain assumptions. Sure, some of them were horribly wrong, but I tend to block out horrible things. Never happened.

What did happen was that Peter kicked my ass in darts. Again. It was also horrible.

I never quite agreed with how fiercely Tiger Woods' father made him train and practice, but after tonight, the greedy side of me is thinking 'holy crap! this kid doesn't suck - I can probably bank some cash here.' The absolute greatest is that I can also accompany my new dart prodigy to the matches. And where are they normally held? That's right - pubs. Right on, right on - I love you Tiger, I mean Peter.

The aftermath of a long night of liquid coaching was that Angie had to wake up with the boys. Trust me - we do take turns. Angie had assumed that an early morning bribery of cartoons and sugary cereal would distract the animals from her hard night as assistant coach long enough for a quick snooze on the bench. As per usual, the animals sensed fear and showed no mercy.

I really can't decide what was more freakin' hilarious - the fact that our kids were power-beating my wife awake or that Barb was so totally enjoying the older-sister-smackdown. Hey there, sugar-pants, maybe you shouldn't have terrorized the shit out of your little sister by locking her in a graveyard when she was still preadolescent.

Obviously, such early childhood trauma affected Barb deeply, especially when it came to crafting snowmidgets.

After creating her abominable monster, Barb sat on the window sill for hours twitching and staring at the snowwoman with the red hat that eerily resembles one of Angie's. Every now and then she would giggle to herself and mutter things like 'take that' and 'uh-oh, here comes the sun'.
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Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When we was by the darts and I beat you up.
David: When I played with ga-ga goo-goo Peter 'cause he are a baby - waaah.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: That Eisi not come.
David: When you was mad 'cause I put not my pajamas on.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: Go out in the garden and catch some animals.
David: To play with friends and go to a party.