the sun is shining, the tank is clean--
*GASP* the tank is clean!
the wife got her official fly-out date, and if you tack two more days onto that (which is about what getting back takes), that makes the new official countdown 36. 36 days. slightly more than a month. am i getting excited? nah, cool as a cucumber me... (the word you, o my beloved non-existant readers and droogies, are searching for is bullshit (or bollocks would work if you hail from across the pond as many of you do).)
what brainiac decided housepainters' outfits should be white? seems their purposes would be better served if they were clad in some of those atrocious multihued prints from the 70's.
if one's progeny wake up at 2 am to play video games loudly until 6 am, it might be time to reassess one's approach to parenting. cleaning dried raw egg off of kitchen surfaces will help put one in the proper frame of mind for doing what must be done.
that is to say, the video games now reside on a shelf too high for anyone except myself to reach (yes, that includes the wife. she would need a step-stool), and only come down for limited amounts of time, and only as a reward for compliant behavior.
it is also handy to come up with a game plan for dealing with no. 1's repeated whinging about not being able to feed his habit ad infinitum. being the rat bastard that i am, and being endowed with a sick sense of humor, i came up with a great one that--well, i will just give you a sample conversation:
no. 1: i need to play games! i gotta play games all day!
me: i love music. music is cool.
no. 1: no, not music, music is yucky (silly, stupid, etc.). i want games.
me: i think music could easily be the coolest thing ever.
no. 1: no, not music. games. i want to play games all day.
me: i need music all the time. i want music all day.
no. 1: [exasperated] no, not music, daddy. games, i neeeeed games.
me: [hums a tune to self whilst an evil glint glows in eyes]
now, multiply that by a gozillion, and that was my day yesterday. today, he just didn't seem to fight it as much. though i expect it will get bad in the next few days when the visions start happening. (hahaha. i have a mental image of renton in his bed screaming at things he sees climbing the walls/ceiling. i know, i know, sometimes the connections of my obscure references are just too thin to follow. it is ok. no, i am not seeking help.)
in other news: the sun is brilliant, my tan is fucking rocking! (i know, i know, the possibility of skin cancer. i know. i am as careful as i can be. but sun is my element. sun recharges my batteries. sun keeps me sane. sun tells me not to kill the kids as i had previously decided to do.) the house is full-on clean (except the vacuuming, which, i have discovered, is just wiser to be done after the kids are in bed), and i continue working out as much as can within the confines of my own house. i continue slimming up, and am thinner than i have been in some time (not to worry, o my beloved and worrisome non-existant readers, i still look very healthy. i am not going for scrawny, i am going for toned. and getting there. yay.) during the allotted video-game time, i did some kind of jetski race with no. 1, my character looking like something straight out of an anime movie with insane hair, large eyes, and pointy chin, and got soundly trounced by my soon-to-be six-year-old son. i have never been a huge video game fan.
that is all.
darth sardonic
the wife got her official fly-out date, and if you tack two more days onto that (which is about what getting back takes), that makes the new official countdown 36. 36 days. slightly more than a month. am i getting excited? nah, cool as a cucumber me... (the word you, o my beloved non-existant readers and droogies, are searching for is bullshit (or bollocks would work if you hail from across the pond as many of you do).)
what brainiac decided housepainters' outfits should be white? seems their purposes would be better served if they were clad in some of those atrocious multihued prints from the 70's.
if one's progeny wake up at 2 am to play video games loudly until 6 am, it might be time to reassess one's approach to parenting. cleaning dried raw egg off of kitchen surfaces will help put one in the proper frame of mind for doing what must be done.
that is to say, the video games now reside on a shelf too high for anyone except myself to reach (yes, that includes the wife. she would need a step-stool), and only come down for limited amounts of time, and only as a reward for compliant behavior.
it is also handy to come up with a game plan for dealing with no. 1's repeated whinging about not being able to feed his habit ad infinitum. being the rat bastard that i am, and being endowed with a sick sense of humor, i came up with a great one that--well, i will just give you a sample conversation:
no. 1: i need to play games! i gotta play games all day!
me: i love music. music is cool.
no. 1: no, not music, music is yucky (silly, stupid, etc.). i want games.
me: i think music could easily be the coolest thing ever.
no. 1: no, not music. games. i want to play games all day.
me: i need music all the time. i want music all day.
no. 1: [exasperated] no, not music, daddy. games, i neeeeed games.
me: [hums a tune to self whilst an evil glint glows in eyes]
now, multiply that by a gozillion, and that was my day yesterday. today, he just didn't seem to fight it as much. though i expect it will get bad in the next few days when the visions start happening. (hahaha. i have a mental image of renton in his bed screaming at things he sees climbing the walls/ceiling. i know, i know, sometimes the connections of my obscure references are just too thin to follow. it is ok. no, i am not seeking help.)
in other news: the sun is brilliant, my tan is fucking rocking! (i know, i know, the possibility of skin cancer. i know. i am as careful as i can be. but sun is my element. sun recharges my batteries. sun keeps me sane. sun tells me not to kill the kids as i had previously decided to do.) the house is full-on clean (except the vacuuming, which, i have discovered, is just wiser to be done after the kids are in bed), and i continue working out as much as can within the confines of my own house. i continue slimming up, and am thinner than i have been in some time (not to worry, o my beloved and worrisome non-existant readers, i still look very healthy. i am not going for scrawny, i am going for toned. and getting there. yay.) during the allotted video-game time, i did some kind of jetski race with no. 1, my character looking like something straight out of an anime movie with insane hair, large eyes, and pointy chin, and got soundly trounced by my soon-to-be six-year-old son. i have never been a huge video game fan.
that is all.
darth sardonic
Labels: attempts at being a dad, finding nemo, trainspotting
posted by darth sardonic at 2:32 PM
6 Comments:
So I get the excitment about your partner, I understand the stuff about the boys,but..... how did the overalls for painters get in there???
And hows the ta coming on, especially now your getting a tan?
We non exsistant readers over here are just going rusty.
pxx
tattoo, is the word half missing... duh!
Painter's suits end up kinda tye dyish don't they?
I never win at video games with my daughter. I think that's why she likes to play them with me. Ha!
I am very happy to hear you will get to hold your wife again soon.
I've tagged you for an award, stop by and pick it up sometime.
px
Darth, I am memorising your conversations with your children for later in my life when I need them. You continue to make me wee myself laughing. I am very glad your wife is coming home and I hope you manage to keep the cucumber bollocks going enough to last the month!!!
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