Friday, April 27, 2012

Online... Dating?

Sturdy convertible crib in Espresso stain, toddler guardrail and mattress included, finish partially gnawed off in some areas but otherwise in excellent condition. Only slight lingering urine odor. 
$100 firm.

And... post. Great. That'll save me a trip to the Sally Ann. Whoa - a response already? With an attachment? ... what the...?

Dear RideBobsBus,
Thank you for the unsolicited photograph of your penis. I'm pleased you found my Craigslist ad so titillating. However, unless you actually wish to purchase the item offered for sale I would appreciate if you would not contact me again. Ever.

Well, that was weird. Must be a statistical anomaly. Hey, more responses. What's this attachment about?

Dear peterman1954,
Thank you for the unsolicited photograph of your penis. Unless you wish to purchase the used crib as per my ad, I ask that you not contact me and possibly seek professional help.

Dear MackMan69,
Thank you for the unsolicited photograph of your penis, received in response to my Craigslist ad offering a CRIB FOR SALE. Please do not contact me any more.

Dear NiceGuy4U,
I assume that the photograph of your penis indicates that you are not interested in purchasing the item offered for sale. In which case I have no qualms in letting you know that I am likewise NOT INTERESTED in your wares and request that you never contact me again.

Okay, seriously - does every dude have photos of his junk saved to his hard drive, just waiting for the right moment to spring them on you? And is it ever the right time to spring a dickture on a lady?

Dear wannalickyou,
Really? Do you think that sending spamming random people with a picture of your penis is really going to help you score? Get help.

Oh my gawd. Are these responses to my responses?

Dear RideBobsBus,
I assure you the pictures were just fine, although I do agree the lighting in the second one is a bit more flattering. It's just that I posted an ad for selling a crib and yours was not the desired response. STOP EMAILING ME.

Dear peterman1954,
It means that I didn't ask for it. NOW LEAVE ME ALONE.

Sweet baby jeebus, still more?

Dear sexxxyAndy,
NO, I do NOT 'wanna do it'. I 'wanna' SELL my CRIB. PISS OFF.

Dear FastCarzColdBeerz,

Dear Mary Anne,

Monday, April 23, 2012

Nope, Not Even Betty White

This Grandmother Protection Plan (GPP) describes the protective and mitigative measures to be employed during the pre-adolescent and adolescent years (i.e., years 9 through 19) of the Frecklepelt Eldest Child Project (the Medium Fry).

The GPP has been prepared in order to minimize the potential impacts identified at the onset of the Medium Fry, namely that there is no such thing as a GILF. Therefore, the primary objective of the measures included in the GPP is to prevent Frecklepelt becoming a grandmother before the age of forty. Within each section of the GPP, measures to be addressed by Frecklepelt are noted and described as they pertain to potential reproductively hazardous situations that may be encountered by the Medium Fry.

1.0 Pre-Adolescent Measures
- The Medium Fry shall be relentlessly subjected to scientific trivia and dorky humour from a young age such that it pervades her being and she is unable to suppress expression of her deeply ingrained nerdy tendencies.
- The Medium Fry shall be enrolled in lessons at the earliest age possible for a musical instrument that cannot feasibly be construed as sexy by teenage males. Possible examples include violin, tuba or bagpipes. 
- The Medium Fry shall be assigned household chores, responsibilities and other extracurricular activities sufficient to limit the amount of time available for interacting with boys.
-  The Medium Fry shall be allowed full freedom to express her inherently poor and/or insane fashion sense. Frecklepelt may choose to limit such freedom in situations which may result in an adverse reflection on Frecklepelt's parenting abilities, although strict supervision of the Medium Fry is recommended at such times.

2.0 Adolescent Measures
- Music lessons shall be encouraged to continue for the duration of adolescence. If a change of instrument is requested by Medium Fry, care should be taken to ensure the selected instrument is not cool, sexy, awesome, etc., or of a size or proportion that could be utilized in an untoward manner during band camp.
- The Medium Fry shall be subjected to orthodontic treatment, including head gear, if at all possible.
- The Medium Fry's curfew shall be way earlier than all her friends'.
- The Medium Fry's parents should generally strive to be the most embarrassing people on the planet.
- If Medium Fry develops hips, breasts, any measurable degree of coolness or hotness, or fashion sense that begins to approach mainstream standards, immediately commence the Emergency Homeschooling Contingency Plan (Appendix A to the GPP).

All measures contained within the GPP are subject to all applicable laws and the inalienable constitutional rights of Medium Fry and should not be interpreted by Frecklepelt in a fashion that could be in violation of such rights, including - but not limited to - freedom of movement, freedom of association, and the right to bear cosmetics.

It is recommended that a separate, project-specific GPP be prepared and implemented for any additional children as they near adolescence, particularly those of a different gender. 

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Who Let the Claws Out?

I asked Medium Fry to wash the supper dishes the other night. She goofed off for so long that she managed to stretch that single sink full into nearly an hour and a half of sudsy angst, then was enraged that she didn't have time left to paint her nails before bed. Like, no bedtime hug enraged, and for her that's serious. Whoopty-doo, right?

W.R.O.N.G. The little brat soaped my toothbrush in retaliation.
(Oh yes she di-id!)

You have not seen mad like I get mad when someone interferes with my obsessive oral hygiene regime. Frankly, I had never seen it either because I've never had anyone put soap on my toothbrush before, but I assure you I was plenty displeased. Because Medium Fry was already in bed by the time I discovered The Soaping, I had the whoooole night to weigh the merits of each potential sentence: a reciprocal soaping? Dishes FOREVER? A good old-fashioned beating?

Meh, none of the above. She's a good kid. The next day I asked if there was anything she wanted to tell me and she promptly burst into tears and apologized. All I really had to do was make sure I got all my laughing done before I confronted her so I could keep a straight face while she blubbered. In fact, she was so contrite that when I told her she had to buy me a new toothbrush out of her allowance, she didn't even think to point out that there are about sixty spare toothbrushes under the sink. (Now there are about sixty-one.)

Between the fury and the blubbering, I've got a pretty solid guess as to what's going on. As the prophecy stated, thus has the time of darkness descended upon us: puberty.

Which is terrifying enough in itself, but can you even imagine the horror if I had waited until I was forty to start having children, instead of, er, "waiting" until I was twenty-two? - good lawd, we'd have puberty and menopause occurring in the same household at the same time. A poorly-timed toothbrush soaping would be nothing short of a death wish.

Similarly, given Medium Fry's current emotional state, it occurs to me that if the child discovers all the things I've posted about her over the years - based on her going completely over the edge over a sink full of dishes, and assuming her reaction will be proportionate to her degree of wrathfulness - I *could* be in hot water. So dear readers, don't be alarmed if you don't see any more Medium Fry stories on here for the next eight years or so - I (probably) haven't killed her off, I'm just hedging my bets to try and ensure she extends me the same courtesy.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Bare Necessities

Some things are just a necessary evil. Shoveling snow, dentist appointments, hair removal. But I'm okay with necessary evils, I've made my peace with them. 'Cause they're, like, necessary and stuff.

It's the plain old evil evils that really piss me off: those things that are so indescribably villainous and vile that it's hard to wrap your brain around how you can possibly be expected - in modern civilization, in a free country - to be subjected to them with any sort of regularity.

Yes, I'm talking about you, Timesheet.

Dear Timesheet: Did you know I have to get drunk every Thursday night just to cope with you? You're like a Pap test or a family gathering or something, except way worse because I can avoid that shit for most of the year but you - you happen to me every week. Depending on how month-end and long weekends fall, sometimes even more than once a week - o, the humanity!

Timesheet, you nasty bastard, when you're not freezing or crashing, you're going so damned slow that I can feel you sucking the life force out of me with every passing minute. I mourn the countless hours of my precious youth that I've wasted waiting on you to decide whether you were actually going to save.

You know, if you would just come out of my computer we could settle this like men: I'd kick your ass by the bike racks then we could shake hands and move on with our lives. But instead, you hide behind your electronic facade, torturing me every week with your capriciousness. Why, you're a regular cyber-bully! I buy a lotto ticket for every draw and dream of how I'm going to leave your sorry ass and go live in the Bahamas.

Alas, my ticket for last night appears to be a non-winner, so tonight we meet again, Timesheet. You may have won this battle, but you haven't won the war!