Archive for February, 2019

“It Is Now That You’ve Given Me The Closer”

February 14, 2019

“Remember you have class at nine,” I reminded my son this morning.

“Oh, right!” Lala exclaimed.  “It’s a holiday for me, but not for him.”

Despite my best efforts, I started laughing.  “You have just summed up Valentine’s Day,” I chortled.

She looked at me askance for a few moments, then I watched the realization dawn in her eyes as to why I was still laughing.  “Is this going to be Candles & Curses?” she asked.

This Came Up In Conversation Today

February 13, 2019

Dead Poets Society is one of the greatest movies I have ever seen that I’ve never wanted to see again.

But I’m Getting There

February 12, 2019

After giving it a lot of thought over the years, I’m slowly (ever so slowly) shifting my position from “Let’s talk about what’s deserved.” to “Let’s talk about what’s best.”.

But I Guess It Should Have

February 11, 2019

“Here, let me help you with that,” I told my son this morning since I saw he was carrying a precarious stack of dishes and glasses.  As we made the hand off, however, I felt liquid pouring down my side.

“It honestly never occurred to me that you would have put a full glass of apple juice on top of a stack like that,” I sighed.

And Things Are Pushing Back

February 8, 2019

Remember when I said the other day that we’re trying to catch up on schoolwork here?

Today we’re on our final push before the weekend.

I Think He’s Been Watching British TV Shows Again

February 7, 2019

Unsurprisingly, sometimes it can be difficult to get my eight-year-old son to try new foods.  Surprisingly, one of those foods is cake.

“I don’t really like cake,” he reminded me when I offered him a sample from a ridiculously over the top ice cream cake I’d purchased earlier.

Resisting the urge to say “More for me then,” I encouraged him to try a small slice, which he did with reluctance while I girded myself against any negative reaction.

I needn’t have bothered.

“This cake . . .” he intoned, “is . . . brilliant!”

Now If You’ll Excuse Me, I Need To Supervise The Creation Of A Representation Of A Mohican Village

February 6, 2019

“Okay, while you have a snack I’m going to do a quick Candles & Curses,” I told my son this morning.

“Great!” he said.  “Maybe you could write about my school schedule and how it’s failing!”

Well . . . never let it be said I don’t take requests.

First off, despite my son’s choice of words, his school schedule is not failing, but we are painfully behind schedule because of my being out-of-town for two weeks recently.  Oh, his mother and Lala did an admirable job of keeping things more or less on track in my absence, but then I (and my out of town viruses) came back and threw everything into a tailspin.

Even so, we’ve already knocked out the easy assignments, but the remaining ones are time intensive, so this is shaping up to be a long week.

This Sums Up My Feelings On The Matter

February 5, 2019

The apocalypse has been postponed indefinitely due to lack of interest.

Golly!

That . . . Would Do It, Yeah

February 4, 2019

I correspond with a number of people around the world (it’s one of my favorite parts of the information age), and recently one of my correspondents was bemoaning an upcoming two-week family visit.

“It’s like spending two weeks in a prison!” they told me.

“I know that feeling,” I replied, “but surely it’s not that bad.  Where are you going again?”

Siberia,” they answered.  “In February!”

But In The Interest Of Fairness, After That I Then Filled The Duck For Him And Give Him A Free (And Successful) Shot

February 1, 2019

“Do you want to get wet?” today my son asked me with a grin.

Even though I was distracted, I very quickly said, “No!”  Noting his obvious disappointment (as well as noting the water squirting rubber duck in his hands), I promptly followed that up with, “It’s a good thing you asked, because I am not in a good mood to be squirted right now, and squirting me would have gone badly for you, but with that said . . .”

I paused to take off of my glasses.  “Now hit me!” I challenged him, then, remembering I was talking to a child, clarified, “I mean you can squirt me now.”

To my son’s great disappointment, nothing happened, so he told me to “stay put” while he ran back to the bathroom to try filling up the duck again.  Realizing the bathroom would be a better place for a water fight anyway, I followed.  Once again though, the duck failed to produce any water.

“It doesn’t work,” my son sighed.

Now it was my turn to grin as I took the duck from his hands and squirted water all over him.  “It works for me,” I said with a chuckle.