Since I'm spending most of my days 1) throwing up, 2) trying not to throw up, or 3) asleep so I'm not throwing, the husband is blogging for me today. I'm sorry for unleashing him on you yet again. ~Alicia
Hi everybody, the husband here again, blogging again as the wife tries not to throw up (and often fails). Failing having anything interesting to talk about (maybe next time), I thought I would share a few of the random items that bounce within my head.
So, with apologies to my wife, here’s my “10 Things I Think I Thought I Thunk.”
Stop laughing. Thunk is a word. Just like Squozen. After you squeeze something, it is squozen. Just sayin’.
Buckle up people, here we go!
1. – I’m finding it far too amusing that the best shows we’re watching right now are cartoons. I’m not sure what that says about us or the current state of television, but I feel like it’s been this way for a while now.
Transformers Prime, Bob’s Burgers, the new Turtles. All quality. What else are we going to watch - Honey Boo Boo?
Heck, even some of Grayson’s shows beat the pants off of 95% of the drivel on TV right now. I’ll take Phineas and Ferb over just about every network’s prime-time line up any day.
2. – My child falls for the Bugs Bunny argument trick. I’m not sure if I’m proud or sad.
Me: “Come here.”
G: *pause* *nods enthusiastically* *comes over*
I can’t wait until he’s older and we can have the “Wabbit season / Duck season” debate.
3. – It’s about time that someone else in our household gets an introduction. Meet Teddy:
Teddy is G’s best friend. Teddy joined our family on G’s 2nd birthday and G loved him instantly, carrying him through the mall after we made the little bear.
Teddy was G’s first bedtime companion, and still keeps him company every night. He’s never thrown him out and has often used him as a pillow… but who hasn’t used their best friend for a pillow from time to time, right?
Teddy is far from a security blanket, and G tends to largely ignore him (and all his stuffed animals, to be fair) unless he’s actively playing a game with them, but still, he’s the best friend that the boy’s got.
Teddy is also occasionally a projectile. But, again… who hasn’t occasionally chucked their friend at their parents?
Behold the cuteness!
4. – Toodee stares at me every day. Toodee, from Yo Gabba Gabba. Yup, that Toodee. Every day I open the shower curtain and BAM.
It’s like some sort of weird Hitchcock movie in reverse. Staring children’s stars in giant costumes. Next one is Barney in reverse “Rear Window,” where Barney sings as he slowly crawls back home from a neighbor’s house and gets a cast taken off.
I don’t really know where I was going with that. Pretend it was funny.
So there Toodee is, in the shower, every day for over a year now. But hey, at least that one’s at eye level. The other Toodee is at a very unfortunate level, as you can tell by her shocked expression.
5. – Serious alert.
I hate the fact that I haven’t really enjoyed us being pregnant since baby 2 (our first loss). I hate that I feel like I’m just waiting for things to go wrong again. I hate that I did that with baby 3, and then we lost it. I wish I could enjoy every minute, every nauseous, vomity, tiring minute.
I try to enjoy it when I can. When she complains about feeling horrible, I give sympathy while also being extremely happy at the nice strong symptoms. I try to gently remind her (and myself) that all her problems are because BABY, but that only goes so far.
Oop, and I’m being sent out for a McDonald’s double cheeseburger (pickles only) at 11pm. Be right back.
6. – I’m back. Ok, so on a less serious note, I write most of this post as I watch a football game. The Tennessee Titans are miserable this year. Amazingly, I don’t really care, and I watch every game to the end. People ask me how I can do that, and I just respond with the fact that I’m also a Cubs fan… so I’m completely used to rooting for losing teams.
And drinking. Drinking during the games helps quite a lot too.
(the Titans went on to win, which only made me all the happier)
7. – Every once in a while I wonder if I’m confusing my child because I tend to do voices and accents when I read to him. Everyone in The Hobbit talks in an English or Scottish accent (Hobbits and wizards = English, Dwarves = Scottish. Really. I shouldn’t even have to explain this to people). Tom O’Malley (the alley cat in Disney’s “Aristocats’) talks in an Irish accent (because: O’Malley). Everyone in Anastasia talks with Russian ones, for some reason Tinker Bell is Swedish… you get the point.
I can’t help it. I like to do voices. Someday he’ll really appreciate it. Or beg me to stop. Either way.
8. – Every night during my goodnights to G I paraphrase ‘Blazing Saddles.’ Some day he’ll realize this. Someday I hope it will amuse him as much as it amuses me. Some day he’ll properly squeak back at me, and I will die from pride.
9. – It’s starting to seem like every day G is saying (ok, telling) a new word. Today we were driving to the mall (one of his favorite places because of the play area). As it came into view, G pointed with excitement and yelled, “Mall! Mall!” It’s more than kinda awesome.
10. – I feel like I haven’t been funny enough in this post. So here’s my absolute favorite joke ever:
A small town in the middle of nowhere is in crisis. It seems that whenever anyone enters a local flower shop, they never come back out. Suspicion is that the pair of monks that run the shop are killing all their customers.
The police chief is frazzled, and is about to quit his job when a man walks into his office.
“Chief,” says the man, “I am here to help.”
“And just who the hell are you?” asks the chief.
“My name is Hugh, and I will put an end to this town’s nightmare.”
“We’ve lost over a dozen police and an entire SWAT team, what makes you think you’ll fare any differently?” asks the chief.
“Chief, you’ll just have to trust me,” replies Hugh, “I can handle these monks.”
For some reason the chief believes the man, and he takes him to the flower shop immediately. Hugh takes a long look and strides purposely towards the shop. The police beg him to stop, but he waves them off, and with a final wink, he pushes open the door and disappears inside.
Minutes pass and the police get worried, but finally the door swings open again and out steps Hugh, carrying the unconscious bodies of the two monks.
Hugh drops them at the chief’s feet, and without a word, he walks away… never to be heard from again.
The moral of this story?
Only Hugh can prevent florist friars.
Yup. Ending it with a pun. A grand pun. A glorious pun.
I’m amazed that my wife let me post it.