Monday, October 25, 2004
Monday. Curse word to some, salvation for others. Out of the frying pan and into the fire for a select few. I should not count myself in that class though, it's just a phase between a blessed home-life and a pretty cushy work-life. The evening could have gone better though. Since the Mrs and I have picked up an annoying bug from our kids, we decided to sack out early. For some reason beyond me, we switched sides of the bed. She needed to sleep on one side because her neck hurt so I couldn't hold her that way, so I went over to the 'other' side. Is that it? It almost makes sense, but not quite. I did not sleep well either. Is my subconscious telling me that I need to be on the other side? Odd. Perhaps I did not sleep well because my chest and back hurts from the abnormally high exercise dose I've been getting of late. It's just too darned hot to do much heavy work outside in the summer months which leaves the wet, chilly autumn months for me to demand my vitality return. With great disenchantment, it hobbles back, lesser every year. Perhaps, perhaps, I should cut back on the bacon and scotch.
Traffic this morning was goofy again. It was smooth sailing right through the usually log-jammed section, then became messy in an area where it is supposed to ease up a bit. Is there an accident ahead, or some construction? Is there a police car with someone pulled over on the side of the road? No. None of these. Today's Suck-Fest is brought to you by the PADOT and their myotic zombie lackeys in their cars. There was one of those illuminated information signs on the side of the road broadcasting that there will be shoulder work on the turnpike between 6pm and 5am for a few days. It is 0700 and people are coming to a near stop to read the sign. In all three lanes. You can't blame the sheep, but you can smack around the herder for falling asleep on the job. The worst part is that the humongous sign of doom just a few hundred meters up the road was blank. This would be infinitely more readable and less of a traffic obstruction. What, did they forget the password or something. This kind of thing can really ruin a day for me. Breath .... 10, 9, 8 ... forget it, I'll just be pissed for the rest of the day.
It's now time for the Tales of the Twins. Today, we have two installments. One for each of the Twin Toddlers of Terpitude.
First off, after I had left this morning, Alexis went ahead and delivered a special delivery package in her diaper for Mommy. Swift on the uptake, the Wife asks her if she went 'poopie'. Well, Alexis denied it up and down emphatically. Nope, no poopie here. The odor was fairly prevalent and it was meant as a rhetorical question. As clever as she is, I am happy to proclaim that my innocent daughter is a real lousy liar. Once Mommy convinced her that she did indeed poop and she needed a diaper change, Alexis changed tactics. Ok, so I pooped, but I want Daddy to change me. Ah-hah, check-mate Mommy! Mommy sadly delivers the message that Daddy is not here, Daddy went to work. I can only ascertain the skeptical look passing over her face as she ponders this pronouncement, and then digs deeper into Mommy's decree by asking 'Daddy chopping wood?'. Heh, in a matter of speaking honey, yeah. Daddy chopping wood.
Our second tail involves Jacob and his fixation with trains. After Mommy had mopped up and got the twins to the Child ReEducation Facility, Alexis went to the correct room while Jacob slipped away to the other room with all the toy trains. Previously, the woman in charge of that room, Catherine, had taken trains away from Jacob to keep them in the room for the other children. He apparently likes to dig through the toybox and gather up all the trains for himself and then haul his booty into his room. He learned quickly and when he saw Catherine enter the room, he quickly surrendered two of the three trains and when she was preoccupied with picking up the toys he had dropped, he tried to hide the third behind his back and sneak out around her. He got to keep the train as both Mommy and the Day Care Professional had a good laugh about it. He may not let on, but he sure is a clever little bugger.