That’s funny . . . they were around here somewhere . . .
- Linus van Pelt to his sister Lucy after claiming that he had just seen two exactly alike snowflakes in a snowstorm.
That’s funny . . . they were around here somewhere . . .
Always beware the person who isn’t as foolish as they appear. They may just be being kind, and should you exhaust that kindness, you’re going to be in for a nasty shock.
It’s not a good idea to shove things down people’s throats just so you can practice the Heimlich Maneuver.
– L’s Mother
Recently someone correctly divined that things are hectic around here again, and they expressed their concern about that. Now I’ve been guilty on many occasions of putting a brave face on things, but this time I truly meant it when I shrugged and said, “We’ve been far more overwhelmed than this and come through okay, so I suspect we’ll be fine.”
Over the weekend I gabbed a box of cookies that L’s Mother had bought, and I found myself reading a list of ingredients on the side. That list started with things like gluten, wheat, and peanuts, but eventually ended with mustard, fish, shellfish, and crustaceans.
“That’s a list of all the things that aren’t in those cookies,” L’s Mother informed me, which I already knew, but it still didn’t help me escape one inescapable thought:
“Worst . . . cookie recipe . . . ever!”
Yesterday while I was replacing the batteries in one of my son’s toys, he grinned at me and with a knowing chuckle asked, “Hey, Dad. Remember when I said those looked like Double A holes to me, and do you remember the Ash hat Pikachu?”
Just finished reading a very good film-noir style story, but when it was over I couldn’t help but thinking how many fictional tragedies could never have been told if humans were just incapable of getting angry and/or blackout drunk . . .
At my son’s suggestion, this morning we held an impromptu fire drill that involved the two of us crawling upon the floor along the only “safe path” to the door and to our designated meet up point out front. We even scooped the dog up with us along the way since she was following us.
Once we we’re done I made it a point to inform my son’s mother that since we knew she was busy, we just pretended that she was with us instead of us pretending that we’d left her in the fire.
The other evening after making some poor choices for dinner and now suffering the consequences, L’s Mother turned to me and announced, “I think it’s time for me to be alone with my bad choices.”
I contemplated that for a moment, then asked, “You are asking me to leave now, right?”
To briefly continue last week’s thought about the importance of reading the room, being able to tell that you’ve lost your audience is vital to turning that around and reaching them if you can. But perhaps most important of all, being able to read the room can be the difference between getting a wink and a promise, or a punch and/or slapped . . . possibly with a lawsuit.