Ptooey

THEBOY had a fine day, not having to stop down and whip anyone's ass.

We're quite thankful.

***

Cup Story #1:

I had a couple of my cups in the shower yesterday. You know... cups. Athletic protection. I'd rinsed them in the hot shower and left them to dry a bit. My fault that I forgot them when we chucked the kids in the shower later.

Because, see, I came in to dry him off after the shower, and he was spitting in the sink. Spitting.

I asked what he was doing.

"I feel kinda funny. I don't think we should have put those penis things on our faces."

Ptooey.

***

I know kids are just kids, okay. I don't expect them to be perfect. But THEBOY sprung up out of his seat during dinner so many times that I actually told him I was about to duct tape him to the chair.

I was serious.

THEGIRL took that opportunity to bark at him, "Sit DOWN Bubba!"

***

Let em just say that I have no particular beef against the man called Rob Zombie.

But I do want to say that every time I see footage of him, he's persistently scratching something deep inside his beard. I find this a bit disturbing.

***

I'm watching TV, heh heh. I'm wasting time.

Yep, I plan to do lots of this for the next five weeks.

***

Cup Story #2:

I learned today that if you take your (not quite) six-year-old son aside and, guy to guy, explain that the thing you're wearing is called a "cup," and that it's for extra protection for doing things like, say, martial arts... well, that kid will immediately punch you in the crotch.

That boy is a loose cannon.