1) I think, and I have had this thought before, that it’s
been too long since I’ve written. There
are so many things going on for me right now, both good and bad, and I’ve been
remiss in putting them to words.
This is the
year that I’ve begun to transition from one career to another, and this seems
to be treating me well thus far. I enjoy
the work, I like the boss (me), and it’s not bad money.
This is the
year that I’ve been watching Little Danger grow by leaps and bounds, physically
and mentally. He’s a beacon, a light
that calls me home with a beaming smile and a “cuddle me jus’ a little
bit.”
This is the
year that The Company has started on a comeback trail, but has done a poor job
in implementation. I’ve fielded some
pretty terrible tech support calls in which we are the screw-up, not the
client, and I have come to hate waiting on programmers to fix the problem. See item 1 above…I like having the ability to
fix my own screw ups or fail on my own merits, as opposed to reliance on the
fruits of another’s labor. Especially
when that fruit is not as sweet as once it may have been.
This is the
year that Wifefish and I have started fighting our way out of our corner,
relying on each other to tag-team our problems as if we were the freakin’ Road
Warriors. (For the record, I’m
Hawk.) Granted, neither one of us is
wearing a Mohawk just now, but we are giving the massive suplex of doom to our
problems…together.
This is the
year that we have a regular weekly game running with some friends, playing Dark
Heresy every Tuesday. I’ve so long
wanted to have a weekly game, and now that I have one going, I’m pleased as
punch, especially given that football season is over, and there’s no weekly
Monday Night Football to be had. Tuesday
Night kill heretics in the name of the Emperor is every bit as fun for me.
This is the
year that I make some changes, and they seem to be for the better.
2) I think Little
Danger makes me giggle sometimes. Last
week, as we were gaming, he went to the kitchen pantry for a snack. The mind of a 3 year old is a strange
thing.
Pepper the
crazy terrier was accompanying him, and he kept pushing her away, saying “No, I
no need help!” Of course, Pepper has the
comprehension capacity of a sweet potato, and so kept merrily attempting to
play with him. More pushing ensued, and
Wifefish corrected him, saying he couldn’t push her away like that, it would
only add more energy to her play.
So the boy
looks thoughtful for a moment, grabs a dog biscuit from said pantry and hands
it to the dog, who merrily takes off for a solitary dining experience in her
kennel in the front room. Little Danger
then triumphantly perused the pantry for a snack as we, the supposed adults,
laughed uproariously and I beamed at his problem-solving skills.
Way to go,
Little Danger.
3) I think the
Snowplow Saga has drained me. I’ll have
to post the whole story, but suffice to say that being backed over by a city
vehicle, driven by one who was completely at fault, left me without the
minivan. We now have a brand spankin’
new Ford Escape, which I am moderately happy about. We now have a ridiculous car payment, which
has left me feeling about like I’ve just traipsed through a lumberjack camp
dressed as a mighty pine tree. I’m not
suffering from buyer’s remorse, though, but a case of wanting to beat the
everlovin’ apefuck out of the douchecanoe who, through his overwhelming
dumbfuckery, took away the van that had been fully paid off. Alas, such is not to be.
4) I think that while my son is in every way awesome, and in
fact more awesome than anyone on the planet, there is one foible he possesses that is both
maddeningly frustrating and deeply hilarious.
Note, if you are a something-in-law to me, STOP READING NOW.
Wifefish and I have given Little Danger another nickname,
one which he has earned. Due to his
amazing ability to sense from anywhere in the house, whether awake or asleep,
if there is any sort of marital affection in the works and further due to his
uncanny power to interrupt any such activity at the most inopportune time, we
have gifted him with the moniker Captain Cockblock. (Note that it's a secret name, one we dare not let him hear until he's 20.) It’s his special supervillain power.
The Captain threatens the safety of Metropolis...
(note to the
in-laws. I did tell you to stop
reading. This uncomfortable feeling you
have right now? Totally your fault.)
Why, just this very morning, he proved his ability. Sadly, his “spidey sexy sense” doesn’t know
humor from reality. I strolled into the
bedroom fresh from the shower, and jokingly said to Wifefish, waving my hands
at my chest as if some freakish takeoff on Vanna White displaying
freshly-purchased vowels, “Would you like any of this before I put it away?”
Approximately 8.7 microseconds later, a voice rose up the stairwell, in its best ore rotundo glorificus, “MOOOOOOMMMM! Need help making Star Wars go!” Needless to say, Wifefish and I shared a moment of euphoric laughter as I got dressed.
5) I think I’m tired of winter. I know, I know, huge revelation there. It’s like being tired of politics or
Bieber. I’m just ready for a little
warmth, a little green, and less shivering and gas bills. OH LOADY THE GAS BILLS!
This winter came in every bit as brutally as the no-stripe
wooly worms suggested this year, and decided to muck up the joint like the rudest
house guest ever. Not only did it put
its feet on our couch, but it wiped its nethers on grandma’s drapes and used
the doilies for a snotrag. Rude
bastard.
Worse, it’s keeping me from an awesome project that I can’t
wait to dive into. More on that another
time, though.
I hope you, dear reader, have a great day. So…what do you think?
