Archive for November, 2018

Because That’s What It Feels Like I’m Feeling Right Now

November 16, 2018

A month and a half past when it was supposed to be done, and still technically a bit more paperwork and the like to do before I can officially put all this behind me, but the work on the house is for all intents and purposes DONE!

Is there such a thing as post-traumatic home reconstruction disorder?

Yesterday’s Parenting Experience.

November 15, 2018

Me:  Okay, kiddo, it’s been one of those days, so I’m going to lie down for just a bit while this headache passes.  Get me if you need me, of course, but try to keep in mind that I need to rest as best I can.

L:  Okay!

(A few minutes later.)

L:  *opening door*  Dad?

Me:  *opening eyes*  Yes?

L:  Isa went poo on the pad, but I cleaned it up for you so you didn’t have to.

Me:  Thank you!  But why are you waking me up to tell me this now?

L:  I can’t find her treats for being a good girl.

Me:  They’re in the office.

L:  Okay!  *shuts door*

(Less than a minute later.)

L: *opening door*  Where in the office?

Me: *eyes already open because I’d been waiting for this*  Left of the trampoline.

L:  Okay! *shuts door*

(A few minutes later.  Just enough time to lull me into a false sense of security.)

L:  *opening door*  Dad?

Me:  *opening eyes*  Yes?

L:  Isa had more poo, but this time it made me sick and I threw up in the bathroom.

Me:  *getting out of bed*  Well . . . your heart was in the right place; too bad your stomach wasn’t.

And That Sentence Was A LOT Shorter Than This One

November 14, 2018

Today’s entry was originally going to be a thought I found deeply personal and profound, then I stopped myself, not because it was deeply personal, per se, but because it was so personal that without the context of either being me or knowing me well enough to know exactly what I was saying, I counted three ways it could be disastrously misinterpreted before I even reached the end of the sentence.

Something Suggested To Me By Lala

November 13, 2018

Now that Stan Lee is no longer available, I’d like to think that he would like it if Ryan Reynolds took over the role of the cameo king of superhero movies.

And If You’ve Only Just Now Gotten That Song Out Of Your Head, You’re Welcome

November 12, 2018

This is the work that never ends; yes, it goes on and on my friends . . .

It Really Will

November 9, 2018

Some times the best you can do is take comfort in the idea that the situation will change eventually, and when it does, the desire to be struck by lightning will pass.

I Really Did

November 8, 2018

“Today you are H.E.L.L.O.” my son informed me this morning.

“Hello?” I asked.

“No, H.E.L.L.O.!” he corrected me by spelling it out for me again.

“Either way, makes sense to me,” I said with a shrug.  “I feel like ‘hello’ this morning.”

I’m Ornery That Way

November 7, 2018

One of the reasons I believe in the “less invisible” style of writing is because though I may not have been raised country, per se, my roots are country enough that I believe in my inalienable right to make language do what *I* want it to do and not the other way around.

Because To Me They Are CLEARLY “Less Invisible” Than They Were A Moment Before, Now Aren’t They?

November 6, 2018

An ever increasing number of years ago I failed a question on an English test by asserting that “less invisible” was proper grammar.  I was told since something was either invisible or it wasn’t, there was simply no way for it to be less so, end of discussion.

So I didn’t discuss it . . . with the instructor.  I know a losing battle when I see one.

But to this day whenever I see someone or something invisible in movies or on TV have their position revealed by their footprints, or by steam, or by something being splattered on them, or however it happens . . . I always chuckle.

This Struck Me As Especially Funny Because I Would Feel EXACTLY The Same Way

November 5, 2018

Some time back I posted something about how I could never say “I love you” to all my friends, and I’m finally getting the chance to do my follow-up to that.  After that post, you see, one of my long-time friends (who I happen to like a lot) chimed in with the opinion that if I ever told them that I loved them, they would be “completely terrified” in a “We’re all going to die in five minutes, aren’t we?” sort of way.