04/03/04
Pills had me napping again. When I woke up it was time to feed the critters supper. It was Steak & Shake again by the roar of the mob. So away we go. When the Super Wife is along Ms. Pikachu rides in the back seat. Since the Super One was at work Ms. Pikachu rode up front, keeping an eagle eye out for traffic problems. She knows I have eye problems, and it makes her nervous. It will only be a few years before she’s learning how to drive and it will be my turn to be nervous.
Regardless, we arrived at the restaurant with no unexpected events. Instead of ordering a kid’s meal like usual she ordered a single and two sides. My but she is growing. Then she got a shake with hot fudge topping and she went nuts over the fudge. She looked around and said, “Dad, people are looking at me.” Imagine that. I don’t suppose you noticed if there was any guilt by association?
Trainboy looked at her and asked, “What planet are you from?” I’ve often wondered myself. In blonde mode she sing-songed “Jupiter, because I couldn’t be stupider.” I was not going to look for the public’s reaction. There are times I don’t know why I don’t lock them up and feed them through a slot in the door. Must be their entertainment value, such as it were.
When we were about done I ordered a Frisco burger to go. I know the Super Nurse likes them, and sometimes she doesn’t get to eat all day. Then it was back home, where I did laundry, watched TV, and waited for Her return. When she got home she said, “Didn’t you get my message? I couldn’t eat because I had no money and I couldn’t charge it because I couldn’t find my ID before I left. I wanted you to bring it over.” Uh oh, big whoops .
Time to dance. “Why no I’m sorry I didn’t see your message but if I had you know I would have found it and brought it to you because nothing makes me happier than making you happy but when we went out to eat I got you a sandwich that you like would you like it now? Darling?” Fast waltz. She ate her sandwich and was grateful, I guess. There were no bodily injuries and that’s always a good sign.
The day was done.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Saturday, April 03, 2004
Friday, April 02, 2004
I left work early because Trainboy had his Spring Program at school. By the time I’d gotten home the Super Wife had already left, so I drove on to the school. I found her in the gym, already seated and about in the middle of a row. She had an empty seat beside her so I excused myself all the way to it.
She seemed happy to see me, but said she reserved rebuttal rights on last night’s blog posting. Everybody’s a critic. Shortly after exchanging pleasantries I looked for the camera bag. It was not there. I asked her if she wanted pictures. She thought the gear was in the back of my car. It was not. It was in the back of her van. But yes, she’d like some pictures.
I excused myself all the way out to the other end of the line. Then came a jog to the van. I’d parked across the street from it about a block away. Open the rear of the van and… there it is- one camera bag. It’s a fairly large one, and by the time you put in a fairly large video camera, 35 mm camera, zoom lens, and assorted accessories it’s a heavy thing. No matter, I need the exercise. I jog back to school with it.
Sweating, I excuse myself all the way back to her seat, carrying this big bag, trying not to bump people too badly. I unpack the 35 mm and put the zoom on, locked and loaded. Then I ask, “You want video too?” When will I learn? She says why yes. Unpack the video camera, etc.
I excuse myself out, grateful that it’s highly unlikely anybody would pack heat in a grade school, but wondering if it isn’t about time we installed metal detectors. I also wonder if my deodorant is working. It doesn’t matter. Just set up.and.we.are.LIVE!
Neither of my hearing aids is working. I haven’t a clue what they’re singing; apparently this is the Spring Program of the Obscure. (dramatically) Before we can go into the future, first we must understand the past. It is time… for a time warp {{{{{}}}}}
Last night the Super Mom put together a cowboy outfit for Trainboy. His teacher had sent a note home that all the boys should try to dress like cowboys. The ever-resourceful Super Mom put together a cowboy outfit including a cowboy hat and a vest made out of a fake wool last seen on the seat covers of a 1968 Dodge Dart. It was unconvincing fake wool and we would leave it at that, except. Except even a six year-old knew it wasn’t exactly cowboy gear, not unless the cowboy had shot a sheep herder, and was willing to wear the skin of a wooly gila monster. Not likely. Time to …time warp {{{{{}}}}}.
Trainboy, now Cowboy, is onstage. He is not wearing a vest. He is not wearing a hat. The Super Mom is surprised; I am not. Because I realize that Trainboy is more like me than I’d ever suspected. As a kid I would have refused to wear any vest that didn’t meet my expectation of authentic. And I would have refused to wear any hat. It was never so cold I had to wear a hat, never. Super Mom may be surprised, but I understand completely, and I’m happy.
When the program finished we went home. Ms. Pikachu was already home, honing her Nintendo skills. Tired from being up too late last night blogging, I fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up the Super Nurse had already departed for work.
The reasonable thing would be to ask the kids if they’re hungry. So I ask them. Ms. Pikachu says no, she’s already eaten. Trainboy says he’s not hungry either. Well I am. So I grabbed a TV dinner out of the freezer, popped it in the microwave, and really pitied my poor ancestors. How did they get by?
Properly heated, I sit down in front of the TV because where else should one eat a TV dinner? There’s pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy and the usual etc… Take a bite, not bad, not bad at all. Trainboy is sitting by me, I ask him if he’d like a bite. He points at a piece of meat, “That one.” Well alrighty then. For a kid who isn’t hungry he does very well. He eats everything except the green beans and celery. No problem with me, there’s more as close as a trip to the freezer and microwave.
We watched Spongebob; it was a good one. Ms. Pikachu came down stairs and said “I heard you laughing.” In the interest of saving energy we aren’t going to use the time warp, I’m just going to tell you- the last time the Schwan’s man came around I got a French silk pie figuring Ms. Chocoholic would like that. She did. So, before she headed back upstairs she told me she’d already eaten the pie, and would I please get another. I could, but technically, that would probably make me an enabler.
Eventually Trainboy decided it was time to pull the plug. We went upstairs and he asked me for a “big shirt” for bed. He likes to use one of my T-shirts for a nightshirt. I got him my Mensa T and told him that it’s a shirt for smart people and now that he can recite all the presidents he can wear it. He seemed pleased. Then we read ‘Harry and the Lady Next Door’ and he was done.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
She seemed happy to see me, but said she reserved rebuttal rights on last night’s blog posting. Everybody’s a critic. Shortly after exchanging pleasantries I looked for the camera bag. It was not there. I asked her if she wanted pictures. She thought the gear was in the back of my car. It was not. It was in the back of her van. But yes, she’d like some pictures.
I excused myself all the way out to the other end of the line. Then came a jog to the van. I’d parked across the street from it about a block away. Open the rear of the van and… there it is- one camera bag. It’s a fairly large one, and by the time you put in a fairly large video camera, 35 mm camera, zoom lens, and assorted accessories it’s a heavy thing. No matter, I need the exercise. I jog back to school with it.
Sweating, I excuse myself all the way back to her seat, carrying this big bag, trying not to bump people too badly. I unpack the 35 mm and put the zoom on, locked and loaded. Then I ask, “You want video too?” When will I learn? She says why yes. Unpack the video camera, etc.
I excuse myself out, grateful that it’s highly unlikely anybody would pack heat in a grade school, but wondering if it isn’t about time we installed metal detectors. I also wonder if my deodorant is working. It doesn’t matter. Just set up.and.we.are.LIVE!
Neither of my hearing aids is working. I haven’t a clue what they’re singing; apparently this is the Spring Program of the Obscure. (dramatically) Before we can go into the future, first we must understand the past. It is time… for a time warp {{{{{}}}}}
Last night the Super Mom put together a cowboy outfit for Trainboy. His teacher had sent a note home that all the boys should try to dress like cowboys. The ever-resourceful Super Mom put together a cowboy outfit including a cowboy hat and a vest made out of a fake wool last seen on the seat covers of a 1968 Dodge Dart. It was unconvincing fake wool and we would leave it at that, except. Except even a six year-old knew it wasn’t exactly cowboy gear, not unless the cowboy had shot a sheep herder, and was willing to wear the skin of a wooly gila monster. Not likely. Time to …time warp {{{{{}}}}}.
Trainboy, now Cowboy, is onstage. He is not wearing a vest. He is not wearing a hat. The Super Mom is surprised; I am not. Because I realize that Trainboy is more like me than I’d ever suspected. As a kid I would have refused to wear any vest that didn’t meet my expectation of authentic. And I would have refused to wear any hat. It was never so cold I had to wear a hat, never. Super Mom may be surprised, but I understand completely, and I’m happy.
When the program finished we went home. Ms. Pikachu was already home, honing her Nintendo skills. Tired from being up too late last night blogging, I fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up the Super Nurse had already departed for work.
The reasonable thing would be to ask the kids if they’re hungry. So I ask them. Ms. Pikachu says no, she’s already eaten. Trainboy says he’s not hungry either. Well I am. So I grabbed a TV dinner out of the freezer, popped it in the microwave, and really pitied my poor ancestors. How did they get by?
Properly heated, I sit down in front of the TV because where else should one eat a TV dinner? There’s pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy and the usual etc… Take a bite, not bad, not bad at all. Trainboy is sitting by me, I ask him if he’d like a bite. He points at a piece of meat, “That one.” Well alrighty then. For a kid who isn’t hungry he does very well. He eats everything except the green beans and celery. No problem with me, there’s more as close as a trip to the freezer and microwave.
We watched Spongebob; it was a good one. Ms. Pikachu came down stairs and said “I heard you laughing.” In the interest of saving energy we aren’t going to use the time warp, I’m just going to tell you- the last time the Schwan’s man came around I got a French silk pie figuring Ms. Chocoholic would like that. She did. So, before she headed back upstairs she told me she’d already eaten the pie, and would I please get another. I could, but technically, that would probably make me an enabler.
Eventually Trainboy decided it was time to pull the plug. We went upstairs and he asked me for a “big shirt” for bed. He likes to use one of my T-shirts for a nightshirt. I got him my Mensa T and told him that it’s a shirt for smart people and now that he can recite all the presidents he can wear it. He seemed pleased. Then we read ‘Harry and the Lady Next Door’ and he was done.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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When I got home Trainboy asked me if I wanted to play Hot and Cold. No way can you refuse a child's request like that, I told him I'd be happy to play Hot and Cold. So I walked in different directions and he told me if I was getting hotter or colder. It really didn't take long to arrive at 'hottest' and he was so excited he was practically percolating himself.
I was in front of the deacon's bench so there was only one thing to do. I opened the lid and he started hopping up and down, he WAS percolating. Inside was a box wrapped in blue paper with a white ribbon. As I lifted it out he told me he'd bought it at Awanas last night because it was a store night. He used the shares he'd earned to buy something for me. It was supposed to be for Father's Day, but he just couldn't wait. He had to give it to me now.
I am now the proud owner of a truck with a missile launcher on the back. He knew I liked missiles. He was so happy to give it to me. What a sweet boy. God I love him.
Later it was our night to do taxes. She did them earlier during the day on paper forms. That's right, the SuperNurse/SuperMom/SuperWife does taxes too. She's very versatile. It was up to me to then type them in using TaxAct. We used the program last year and generally speaking it was very easy, except, and there's always and exception, it took a long time to figure out how to enter the mortgage credit. It finally occurred to me to just click on 'forms' and choose the correct form instead of trying to just get it from the program's flow.
It took us four hours last year. This year, since we were experienced, it took an hour and a half. The problem, as I see it, is that it's hard to really get used to something you only use once per year. It's always something, but next year it'll probably only take about a half hour. We'll see.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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I was in front of the deacon's bench so there was only one thing to do. I opened the lid and he started hopping up and down, he WAS percolating. Inside was a box wrapped in blue paper with a white ribbon. As I lifted it out he told me he'd bought it at Awanas last night because it was a store night. He used the shares he'd earned to buy something for me. It was supposed to be for Father's Day, but he just couldn't wait. He had to give it to me now.
I am now the proud owner of a truck with a missile launcher on the back. He knew I liked missiles. He was so happy to give it to me. What a sweet boy. God I love him.
Later it was our night to do taxes. She did them earlier during the day on paper forms. That's right, the SuperNurse/SuperMom/SuperWife does taxes too. She's very versatile. It was up to me to then type them in using TaxAct. We used the program last year and generally speaking it was very easy, except, and there's always and exception, it took a long time to figure out how to enter the mortgage credit. It finally occurred to me to just click on 'forms' and choose the correct form instead of trying to just get it from the program's flow.
It took us four hours last year. This year, since we were experienced, it took an hour and a half. The problem, as I see it, is that it's hard to really get used to something you only use once per year. It's always something, but next year it'll probably only take about a half hour. We'll see.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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Tuesday, March 30, 2004
It looked like a free night, showing how delusional I am. The Thriftywife informed me that she’d bought a video game for Ms Pikachu and since then, horrors, it had gone on sale elsewhere. This can only mean one thing- we are going to get some money back.
So we take a poll of the kids. “We are going make a stop at the library and then go to Target and Toys R’ Us, do you want to go?” They don’t want to go. We’ve already eaten and they don’t want to bounce around between stores when then could stay at home and watch Cartoon Network. Kids grow up so early nowadays.
But I would go, yes me, Weenie Husband! Off we went and on the way she explained to me what needed to be done. It involved buying another, taking one back, and getting a price adjustment- at least that’s all I remember. The whole thing seemed so convoluted it would intimidate a venture capitalist. All that mattered was that she knew what she was doing, and wanted to do it..
During the drive I asked her how much money she was making on this little adventure. She said “$5.00.” I was a little incredulous. Driving to two different stores and dealing with customer service in both of them for $5.00? I asked her what her time was worth, and did not mention gas or wear on the van. She didn’t mind, for her $5.00 is $5.00. Right there you know she’ll never spend us poor, nor will she let me. Which is a good thing…within limits.
So I didn’t say anything else about it. It doesn’t do much good to get somebody angry over so little. Hey if it’s worth it to you to drive all over town for $5.00, if that makes you happy, well alrighty then. So I shut up and put up with it.
In return, I got about an hour and a half with just her, no kids. She drove so I got to just look at her face, squeeze her right leg, and hold hands. For $5.00 I’d be more than happy to do it again.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
-
So we take a poll of the kids. “We are going make a stop at the library and then go to Target and Toys R’ Us, do you want to go?” They don’t want to go. We’ve already eaten and they don’t want to bounce around between stores when then could stay at home and watch Cartoon Network. Kids grow up so early nowadays.
But I would go, yes me, Weenie Husband! Off we went and on the way she explained to me what needed to be done. It involved buying another, taking one back, and getting a price adjustment- at least that’s all I remember. The whole thing seemed so convoluted it would intimidate a venture capitalist. All that mattered was that she knew what she was doing, and wanted to do it..
During the drive I asked her how much money she was making on this little adventure. She said “$5.00.” I was a little incredulous. Driving to two different stores and dealing with customer service in both of them for $5.00? I asked her what her time was worth, and did not mention gas or wear on the van. She didn’t mind, for her $5.00 is $5.00. Right there you know she’ll never spend us poor, nor will she let me. Which is a good thing…within limits.
So I didn’t say anything else about it. It doesn’t do much good to get somebody angry over so little. Hey if it’s worth it to you to drive all over town for $5.00, if that makes you happy, well alrighty then. So I shut up and put up with it.
In return, I got about an hour and a half with just her, no kids. She drove so I got to just look at her face, squeeze her right leg, and hold hands. For $5.00 I’d be more than happy to do it again.
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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