Saturday, October 30, 2004
an almost rude awakening
Having a non-toddling toddler can really put a damper on your social life. That's one of the many things The Wife and I have learned since The Boy was placed with us in March.
(And I'm sure all parents know any child, toddling or not, can have a significant impact on other more personal areas of your relationships as well.)
We have realized that rather than us going out to socialize, it is frequently a much simpler task to bring other people in. To this end we have begun having happy hour gatherings at our home a few times a month.
Last night was once such ocassion.
In honor of the season, we declared it "Pumpkinfest 2004". We ate pumpkin bars, chocolate pumpkin cheesecake (which was freakin' awesome) and drank pumpkin ale that I think really kicks ass. We carved pumpkins. I wore lots of orange!
And, I as I am sometimes apt to do, I may have had a beer or two or three or five more than was prudent.
One advantage of having these little social gatherings at home as you don't have to worry about driving. Like Booger said to Tom Cruise in "Risky Business", sometimes you just have to say "what the fuck."
This morning, when I awoke, I did as I do most every morning, which is to say I follow most, if not all, of the steps outlined by my dear friend Fang many years ago when he defined the routine for the Most Manly Way to Wake Up and Get ouf of Bed: stretch, burp, fart, scratch your balls, and say "fuck".
This morning, right before I got to the part where I say "fuck", I reached down and felt something odd. It almost startled me. Instead of saying "fuck," I thought, "What the hell is this?" There was most definitely something attached to my scrotum. (And no, I am sorry to report, it was not the loving lips of The Wife.)
Well, what would you do? I grabbed hold of the object and gave it a little tug. Much to my relief it came off with little resistance.
I looked to see what it was.
I don't know how or why. The Wife neither admits responsibility nor claims knowledge, and as I'm fairly sure she fell asleep before I did I have no reason to be suspicious.
But for some reason, however mysterious, when I awoke this morning I had one of those small orange "thank you" stickers, like they use at the grocery store on items that won't fit in a bag, stuck to my left testicle.
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(And I'm sure all parents know any child, toddling or not, can have a significant impact on other more personal areas of your relationships as well.)
We have realized that rather than us going out to socialize, it is frequently a much simpler task to bring other people in. To this end we have begun having happy hour gatherings at our home a few times a month.
Last night was once such ocassion.
In honor of the season, we declared it "Pumpkinfest 2004". We ate pumpkin bars, chocolate pumpkin cheesecake (which was freakin' awesome) and drank pumpkin ale that I think really kicks ass. We carved pumpkins. I wore lots of orange!
And, I as I am sometimes apt to do, I may have had a beer or two or three or five more than was prudent.
One advantage of having these little social gatherings at home as you don't have to worry about driving. Like Booger said to Tom Cruise in "Risky Business", sometimes you just have to say "what the fuck."
This morning, when I awoke, I did as I do most every morning, which is to say I follow most, if not all, of the steps outlined by my dear friend Fang many years ago when he defined the routine for the Most Manly Way to Wake Up and Get ouf of Bed: stretch, burp, fart, scratch your balls, and say "fuck".
This morning, right before I got to the part where I say "fuck", I reached down and felt something odd. It almost startled me. Instead of saying "fuck," I thought, "What the hell is this?" There was most definitely something attached to my scrotum. (And no, I am sorry to report, it was not the loving lips of The Wife.)
Well, what would you do? I grabbed hold of the object and gave it a little tug. Much to my relief it came off with little resistance.
I looked to see what it was.
I don't know how or why. The Wife neither admits responsibility nor claims knowledge, and as I'm fairly sure she fell asleep before I did I have no reason to be suspicious.
But for some reason, however mysterious, when I awoke this morning I had one of those small orange "thank you" stickers, like they use at the grocery store on items that won't fit in a bag, stuck to my left testicle.
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