Frenzied Daddy

Tongue & Cheek

Originally uploaded by Sara May.

Hmm, I may have to play with some spot color. This is a neat photo.

Vasectomies linked to dementia!

I’m not just unusually grouchy lately, honey, I’m suffering from the onset of frontotemporal dementia (FTD), which is evidenced by personality changes, lack of judgment and bizarre behavior. FTD usually starts at an earlier age, in the 40s and 50s. Well, I’m almost 40.

Customers Suck, and this one almost got kicked in the chops.

… And girls shouldn’t read big books like that. It’s too thick. Boys don’t like girls who read thick books. You want boys to like you, don’t you? …

Miss B has just finished reading the sixth Harry Potter book (and if she asks me to read the part where Harry kisses Ginny again, I may scream), and all I can say is, if big books make girls into lesbians, then get in the car, honey, we’re goin to the library! Lesbians won’t make you a teenage mom.

But seriously; what freaking kind of freaking mother would tell her daughter that? You’re supposed to freaking nurture and teach, and model, you complete and total yutz. I haven’t read the Traveling Pants books, but I hear they’re pretty good. Miss B seems to enjoy fantasy, though, so I’ll leave her to whatever she finds. In my house, whatever she wants to read she’s allowed; some of the books I’ve “proofread” ( just like my dad proofread my comics ).

On a final note, I’m not so worried about Bush declaring Martial Law before the next Presidential election and making our transition to an Orwellian dystopia complete. It was pointed out to me that my belief that Bush “stole” the 2000 election with Republican shenanigans means that he hasn’t been voted to be president twice and that he’s eligible for a third term. In a wry way, this is funny, but I can’t believe that we’d go there.
me

Um, yeah.
Bush Paves the Way for Martial Law

I try not to just link to goofy blog things, but I drew an ugly pig and thought I’d share it. You may have to jump through the ‘pig drawing’ hoops to view it though; they dress the pig drawing up as a personality test.

It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood; a beautiful day to be neighbors. It’s the second year since we moved in eleven years ago that I mowed the back yard in March. I found grass, blackberries, and dog poo. Lots and lots of dog poo.

We also planted flowers- some little yellow ones and some pansies and some strawberries. Just a few to make it a little more sunny in the yard. Something about bright yellow-orange flowers appeals to me and makes me feel summery. Like marigolds. I planted marigolds in a little patch when we lived in Fort Richardson and took them to my teacher. I also love sunflowers; their silly size makes me giddy and their yellow glow makes me warm.

Dandelions, however, I’m not too fond of

Coming home from dropping Miss B off at school this morning, Miss K was hungry. “Daddy, I hungee.” I told her that I was hungry too and we’d go home and eat; I asked her if she wanted cereal or a sandwich. “A peabutjelly sammich” (she mumbles like I do, damn it!). Sounds good to me- we eat a lot of peabutjelly sammiches. She likes the part where she opens the fridge and takes out the jelly. She’ll even do that when I’m cooking dinner.

“And a pickle.”

I looked back at her and nodded.

“And shicken.”

I looked in the rear view mirror and she smiled back at me. “We don’t have any chicken.”

And then the slyest, craftiest, coyest voice- the Coyotiest, the Ravenest, the Lokiest voice came from the back seat…. “McDonnas has Shicken”

Uh, no, we didn’t get chicken, or McDonald’s. Dang.

Similarily, Miss B had a hard lesson this morning. She lay in bed until we had to leave, being “tired” and whining that she was hungry (what is it about feeding these kids?! Do I have to do it every day?! Sheesh!) Finally, just before I stormed her bedroom, ripped the bedclothes from on top of her and wrestled her into the car while she was wearing her pajamas, she announced that she wanted Starbucks. Are my kids deprived? Maybe. But I had to break it to her- laying in bed until we’re late for school isn’t going to get her any cinnamon rolls and hot cocoa. (Thank heavens she hasn’t discovered the strawberry creme frappachinos yet, eh?). She was up, and surly, but she got to school. On time.

And on the way home… Are you sensing a pattern yet? My deprived Miss B informed me that she wanted Mio Gelato… She was starving for Mio Gelato. Ok; it was freaking gorgeous out; a high around 65 degrees (farenheit, duh), I could understand wanting ice cream, and Mio Gelato is pretty tasty. I said “no.” Because it’s a ‘no’ day. Seriously, because I had just plunked a check into our checking account, we had been overdrawn and I knew I had to send most of the check to a creditor, and I just didn’t feel like spending that money. She repeated herself and then she said “If I don’t have Mio Gelato, I’ll starve to dea–urk.” Cute kid.

But I didn’t tell her that. In fact, I said “no,” and that “I didn’t want to.” … And because I usually feel like I’m about 25 and not the 38 I’ll be on Monday, I teased her about it, and tried to keep it light. And because I tend to treat my daughters as … friends that I can tease rather than daughters, kids who need me to give it to them straight, and who need to believe that I’ll always be safe for them, I continued to tease her until she asked me to stop.

Which really should be another post, a completely different topic. On how my teasing the girls could be hurting our relationship.

What do you think? How honest should I have been with Miss B? And what do I do about all their asking to eat out?