This Conversation Got Old Fast

As further proof that I’m currently hovering around a particular stress level, yesterday somebody made the mistake of trying to play the “Let me guess your age” game with me when I was just not in the mood:

Them:  “Why won’t you tell me your age?”

Me:  “Because I don’t dwell on my age.”  (But thinking Because, stranger, it’s none of your damn business!)

Them:  “I’m going to guess then.”

Me:  “You can guess if you want.”

Them:  “The starting digit . . . 2 or 3?”

Me:  (Thinking Nice try with the lowball there, but no cigar.)  “The starting digit was zero, just like everybody else’s.”

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I’m Kidding!

After yesterday’s post, my Dad reached out to me with words of comfort, assuring me that in the end the efforts of parenthood bring great rewards.

I asked him to let me know when it starts being rewarding for him so I knew how long I had to wait . . .

There Are Also Other Reasons

I’ve found myself wondering why I’m so easily distracted lately . . . . then I remembered that it’s Spring, that season where a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of trying to breathe!

1 Part Alcohol, 4 Parts Tea Is What Generally Works For Me

As I sip my tea this morning, I’m doing so from a mug someone got me a few years back.  This mug has a list of “tips for good health” on the side, and at the top of the list it says “Less Alcohol, More Tea.”

It turns out that’s really good advice.

No Good News Goes Unsnarked (But, Seriously, We Were Glad To Hear It)

Me:  “By the way, the baby is fine.  He no longer needs oxygen, so they sent him home.”

L’s Mother:  “He no longer needs oxygen?!  What kind of baby is this?”

Me:  “You know what I meant!”

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And in the not-news today, celebrity jerk is still a jerk!  Details to follow.

A Two-Faced View Of What It’s Like To Be A Parent Some Days

You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

– Harvey Dent, The Dark Knight

Yes, Things Like This Really Happen To Me

What follows starts out as something that was actually said to me recently (albeit paraphrased for clarity), and ends with something completely made up to make it even funnier:

Tipsy Fortuneteller:  “You have . . . changed your destiny.  Remarkable.  You were born to be a sociopath . . . a monster, but you have changed that . . .”

Me:  “Go home, Mom.  You’re drunk.”

This Is How I Imagine This Meeting Must Have Gone

“Alright, people, we’re here to hammer out the details of our reciprocal museum membership program for our respective museums.  For our part, if someone is a member of your museum, they’ll have full access to our museum; they just won’t get the complimentary planetarium tickets we provide to our own members.”

“Sounds good to us.  And for our part, if someone is a member of your museum, the adults will get in free.”

“‘Adults.'”

“Uh-huh!”

“So . . . if our members come to your children’s museum, the . . . adults get in free.”

“You got it!”

“You have no idea what “reciprocal” means, do you?”

“Not a clue!”

I Feel This Is A Term The Business World Has Been Sorely Lacking

It started as an unfortunate typo of “Gotcha!” in a friendly business correspondence, but it became “Got’ka!”, which to me sounds like Klingon for “You are insufficiently incorrect for me to kill you . . . this time.”