Here is the house that will be our home after November 30:
I either need a raise or a lobotomy.
10/29/2006
god, what have I done?
Here is the house in which I curretly reside with the wife and three children under three:
Here is the house that will be our home after November 30:
I either need a raise or a lobotomy.
Here is the house that will be our home after November 30:
I either need a raise or a lobotomy.
10/10/2006
Attack of the Mad Shitter
Some people get stuck in Freud's infamous "Anal" stage.
Way back when I was a college sophomore someone on our hall started stealing the 12 oz drinking glasses from the dining hall, filling them with their fecal matter for the day and depositing it in front of an unsuspecting sleeping student's door. The poor bleary eyed student would awake in the morning to find the glass of cold turd staring at him as he opened the door. We dubbed the idiot who pulled these pranks the "Mad Shitter" It turned out the mad shitter was a senior in my fraternity. Bob Dalton, if you ever read this I hope someone shitteth on you.
It seems that the Mad Shitter has been reincarnated in a different not-so-discrete form. Lolo's big fun-thing-to-do-to-piss-off-the-parents now is playing with poop. What a delightful and fun way to spend quality time with a sweet little girl. We thought we had her potty trained but obviously she has regressed.
Over the past week she has thrilled herself three times. The first time it was finger painting on the white walls in the hall, on the door trim and on the carpet under her crib. We sternly informed her that poop was not for playing and that it belonged in the potty. She repeated back to us that poop belongs in the potty. As if to say "Fooled you dumbasses- I play with shit whenever I want to play with shit and you will run like a sissy and clean it up. I have ultimate power over you mindless and spineless dirtbags"
To prove her point, she made her next canvas the dining room table and floor. At least shit wipes easily from hardwood floors and underneath glass tabletops. Then yesterday Lolo decided that the patterns on the kitchen drapes did not have enough brown. Mmmm, Mmmm. Nothing like trying to get digested macaroni and cheese and goldfish off drapes that cost more than our car.
Maybe we can keep her in this stage for another two years. Then the twins will be old enough to battle Lolo in shit wars! We can have shit slumber parties, pin the shit on the donkey, and play hide-and-go-smear-shit-on-someone.
I gotta head out now and go buy some brown paint.
Way back when I was a college sophomore someone on our hall started stealing the 12 oz drinking glasses from the dining hall, filling them with their fecal matter for the day and depositing it in front of an unsuspecting sleeping student's door. The poor bleary eyed student would awake in the morning to find the glass of cold turd staring at him as he opened the door. We dubbed the idiot who pulled these pranks the "Mad Shitter" It turned out the mad shitter was a senior in my fraternity. Bob Dalton, if you ever read this I hope someone shitteth on you.
It seems that the Mad Shitter has been reincarnated in a different not-so-discrete form. Lolo's big fun-thing-to-do-to-piss-off-the-parents now is playing with poop. What a delightful and fun way to spend quality time with a sweet little girl. We thought we had her potty trained but obviously she has regressed.
Over the past week she has thrilled herself three times. The first time it was finger painting on the white walls in the hall, on the door trim and on the carpet under her crib. We sternly informed her that poop was not for playing and that it belonged in the potty. She repeated back to us that poop belongs in the potty. As if to say "Fooled you dumbasses- I play with shit whenever I want to play with shit and you will run like a sissy and clean it up. I have ultimate power over you mindless and spineless dirtbags"
To prove her point, she made her next canvas the dining room table and floor. At least shit wipes easily from hardwood floors and underneath glass tabletops. Then yesterday Lolo decided that the patterns on the kitchen drapes did not have enough brown. Mmmm, Mmmm. Nothing like trying to get digested macaroni and cheese and goldfish off drapes that cost more than our car.
Maybe we can keep her in this stage for another two years. Then the twins will be old enough to battle Lolo in shit wars! We can have shit slumber parties, pin the shit on the donkey, and play hide-and-go-smear-shit-on-someone.
I gotta head out now and go buy some brown paint.
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