Even the cat laughed at me

Cats are so stupid. Climbing up things that they can't climb down from.

So, last night, the smoke detector started beeping. Battery, more than likely. The problem was that this detector is on the ceiling, with only a small ledge to reach it from.

It's ten pm; I don't want to disturb anyone — I'm limber. I built a platform of chairs and step stool, and climbed right up and changed the battery.

Looked down.

Boy, did I ever want to meow.

Wondering Why Baby Can't Sleep

Now that baby lives in the woods, he misses the sounds of the city. So we got him a sound machine.

It goes: Do Dee Dum, Do Dee Dum.

After he got a cough, we got him a vaporizer.

It goes: Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

He misses the lighting from the streetlights, so we got him a night light. Hey, why not two?

So when baby couldn't sleep the other night, I entered his room.

Do Dee Dum! Whoosh, whoosh! Do Dee Dum! I read baby Goodnight Moon by night light.

I don't know why baby can't sleep.

Maybe he misses the night life? Next week I'm installing a disco ball.

Hostess Glo Balls; a Scientific Inquiry

Today's Subject: Superhero-ed Sno Balls

Usually Sno Balls are pink or white; colors frequently associated with twelve-year-old girls bathrooms. These are green—have Green Lantern (a superhero) on the box—and are called Glo Balls. Glowing green is a color usually associated with plutonium rods inside nuclear reactors.

Today's investigation: Are they truly a dessert for cadets of the intergalactic police force?

First fact: they don't really glo(w). Any and all luminosity was achieved via a flash. (Please note this refers to a camera flash and not a super hero by that same name.)

First bite analysis: coconut sprinkles, marshmallow outer covering, inside is chocolate cake with creme filling. Just like a Sno Ball. Burp had a mildly plastic aftertaste, almost waxy. Subject does not feel super powered.

Conclusion: They are just Sno Balls painted green.


Per FFC regulations, this post requires a disclaimer: Product was self-purchased and no compensation was received from Hostess or the Green Lantern Corp. Ingredients include 'beef fat' and should not be consumed by vegans or those allergic to fat or beef. Or glowing things.

Hostess and Green Lantern are trademarks of their respective multi-million dollar conglomerates. Whom, I'm sure, have excellent senses of humor.

Dusty's Homework

Me: What's your homework?
Dusty: Take a picture from the Internet and write sentences about it. *reads* A declarative, exclamatory, and interrogative.
Me: Be careful, there's dirty pictures on the Internet.
Dusty: But that would be easy: She has no clothes on. Wow! Does her mother know?

Coming out of the closet

The walls to my bedroom are now Ripe Apricot. And at three am, the orangey paint fumes set off the fire alarm.

Did you know that could happen? I didn't.

The waa-waa of the smoke detectors lifted me out of bed. The room was the dark of closed eyelids. Thinking it may be a fire, I grabbed the door knob—it wouldn't turn. I turned around and bumped into a wall, turned again into another wall. Like I was in a small box. I found the doorknob again—still wouldn't twist. It was like every nightmare you ever had.

The light came on. I was in the closet.

Diary of a Dadurday

7:05 I can hear baby babble. Why is his mother still sleeping?

7:07 Oh, yeah. It's Dadurday: The day mom sleeps in.

7:08 Coffee!

7:09 What's does Gummybear eat? Hey, honey...oops.

7:10 I remember a mushy bowl of...stuff. Like a paste. Flour?

7:11 *snaps fingers* Babies drink milk. Yeah, that's what they do.

7:12 Where are the sippy cups? Hey, honey...oops.

7:13 More coffee!

7:14 It's been hours.

7:15 There goes a banana. Now what do I do?

7:16 Baby is banging on the bedroom door.

7:17 No instructions written anywhere.

7:19 Still banging. Now using a block.

7:20 I wonder if she's okay?

7:21 I should go in there. And bring the baby.

7:22 *opens door* Hey, honey...oops.

I'm So Vain

Ahhhh! My waistband's too tight. My God, I'm going to have to double my running miles. Cut out cupcakes. Dump the extreme buttered popcorn. Join a gym. Does my HMO cover liposuction? Maybe.

Oh.

Heh.

I just over cinched my belt.

This moment of vanity panic was brought to you by PV Lundqvist. For the very finest in male narcissism. Your preferred choice.

One year old — still no job

I put the Gummy Bear to work, today. You should have heard the complaining:

1) I can't walk yet
2) I'm only awake two hours in a row
3) I still make in my pants
4) You're making this up; I can't talk yet!

Okaaaaay, I'll give him another year. Then it's chore time. Seriously, there is nothing cuter than a two year old carrying a plate as big as their chest. Toddle, toddle, smack plate on table. Cringe. You go through a lot of dishware this way, but I make it up by buying stock in Williams-Sonoma. It evens out.