The 23rd on the 23rd

The 23rd on the 23rd.

Today marks Lynn’s and my 23rd anniversary (also on a Saturday). In 1992, Johnny Carson aired his last Tonight Show on the night before our wedding. This week, David Letterman retired from The Late Show. Let’s see how many more talk show hosts we can outlast. Happy Anniversary to my Sweetie.

Also, I understand there are children. First I’ve heard of it… (also, there’s a blog?)

Multi-Tasking

Mommy: Julianna, you can’t have both the iPad and Laptop at the same time. I have work to do.

Julianna (she’s 10): But, I’m doing something AND watching something.

Skipping the “back in my day” lecture…

Mommy: Give me the iPad. Now.

J: I was multi-tasking. But, now I’ll have to log in to Netflix.

Back in my day…

As Narrated By…

Heading out to pick up Isabella from her Saturday gymnastics practice, I find Julianna (she’s 10) in the car seat next to me.

Me: When did you get there?

J: Daddy, I was always there.

Me: Well, not always, you see the Big Bang…

J: Dad stop. Can I put on the radio?

Me: Of course.

She clicks it on. Blondie. “Heart of Glass.” My arms start dancing while I’m still holding the steering wheel.

J: Daddy, please stop. It’s dangerous.

Me: Honey, my elbows want to talk! Because we haven’t heard enough Blondie on the ’80s station recently.

And, I actually said this:

Me: … He said facetiously.

Without skipping a beat:

J: Dad, please stop narrating yourself. (actual quote.)

Because I do do that a lot (Ha! I said doodoo! Help me.)

Julianna flips the station to the adult contemporary station. She’s a “Maneater.” Thanks for that Daryl and John.

We are stuck at stoplight. A couple of little girls cross the street with their Mom. The girls are in flouncy skirts with crinoline.

Me: I bet they just came from a performance.

J: Maybe they just like skirts.

Me: Nobody wears skirts like that unless they are performing.

J: Well, but you do.

Me: No, I don’t. That was a joke, right?

J: But you can’t wear high heels.

Me: No, I cant balance.

J: Because you are fat.

Me: No, honey. Not because I am fat. I’ve never worn them. So, I’d be wobbly.

J: Because you’re fat.

…And, we haven’t even picked up Isabella yet. The trip home? Fuggetaboutit.

By the way, I’m Ok with men wearing skirts. As well as women wearing pants.

Hot Water Heater. It’s All about the Bidet. Part II.

I know that most of you didn’t read the previous post about our busted/no good/rotten water heater. Take a second and scroll down to catch up. It’ll take but a minute.

I’ll wait…

Ok… You’re back. So, the plumber people gave us the news: Our water heater was dead. Yeah, we got that.

They were happy to replace our old water heater for $1500. Which is a lot of money. But, we asked… What else ya got?

Editor’s note: Lynn and I have longed for an instant water heater for the bathrooms because they currently take, no kidding, four minutes of water flow before anything becomes even lukewarm. And, we’re in the middle of a drought. So, the state-suggested 5 minute shower is actually ONE minute.

Trust me, there are things I cannot clean in one minute.

Also, the water heater is in the kitchen and we want to remodel.

So, we talked to the plumber boss and we settled on an Instant-Hot-Water system. It’s a bit more pricey. Also, We could use the space as a kitchen cupboard. An additional 50 cubic feet!

But, really, we’re talking about the bidet. No one wants to talk about it. Elephant in the room. The French say “Bih-Day.” The English: “BEE-day.” The girls: “Butt Washer.”

It looks so innocent.

It looks so innocent.

The previous owners of our house built one in to the master bathroom. But, trust me, you don’t want to sit around (literally) for four minutes waiting for warm water to flow. Because, cold water THERE is enough to make you jump. Believe me, I tried it.

These things will change your life. (I’m not kidding.)

So, the plumbers assure of that we’ll have warm water within 30 seconds. Because, my ass if they don’t. Literally.

Hot Water Heater. A Pleonasm* (note the asterisk, see below). Part I.

You know how sometimes, you’re standing in your kitchen at 11:00 at night, and you hear gentle raindrops falling. Then you remember, it’s not supposed to rain tonight. So, you open the door and look out at the beautiful nighttime sky. And you see the moon. And Venus. And even, if you squint hard enough, you can make out Jupiter. There’s not a cloud in the sky.

So, you close the door, and yet, you still hear the drip, drip of water.

Crap.

So you (and when I say “you,” of course I mean “I”)… So you open up the closet that holds the water heater. And, there’s the source of your “rainfall.” A rusted out unit. Drip, drip, dripping.

Because, come on, how often do you check your water heater for rust?

Because, come on, how often do you check your water heater for rust?

And, it’s 11:00 at night.

So you do what you’re supposed to do: First thing, you wake up your wife. Because, we’re in this together, baby.

OK, so buckets and towels. You turn off the gas pilot light, and shut-off the water intake valve. You attach a hose to the drain (there’s another hilarious slapstick comedy* moment) and open it.

And, nothing drains. Because when you try to let air into the tank, you realize that the shut-off valve is broken. And water starts spraying everywhere.

Did I mention: Crap. And, you’re dog tired.

So, you seal up all the connections and put the buckets under the tank. And, you plan to call the plumber in the morning. Because, there’s nothing you can do about it now.

And, now the plumber is here. Part II of this story will follow. I know you can’t wait. (Neither can I. I need a shower.)

*A Pleonasm is the use of more words than necessary to define something. Like, a hot water heater (you’re not heating hot water). A burning fire. A free gift. A true fact. And, “slapstick comedy.” (Have you ever heard of a slapstick melodrama?) See… Reading this blog will make you intelligently smart.

Bearly There

Julianna (she’s 10) was sick at school yesterday, so I picked her up early. She’s all sniffly, weezy, coughy. Just like me when I sleep. I kid.

She is clicking around on the radio, and Kelly Clarkson sings, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

She may be sick, but Julianna’s rapid fire brain won’t let up.

J: Dad. That’s so true. Whatever doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.

Me: Yeah, Honey. I suppose. That’s an old saying.

J: Because you learn things when bad things happen to you.

Me: Yes, you do. I’m learning some things on this car ride right now. You were saying…

J: Like, if you survive a bear attack, then you’ll probably know what to do the next time you get mugged by a bear.

Me: I’m sorry, did you say “mugged?”

J: Yeah, Mugged. Like if you were going to the store, and on the way there a bear mugged you…

Me: Sweetie, did they give you any “medicine” at school?

J: No. But, we need to be careful the next time we go camping.

Me: I’ll keep an extra eye out at the Yellowstone ATM in the side of a Redwood.

When we got home, she passed out solidly for about 3 hours.

Now, if you will excuse me, there’s a grizzly demanding my wallet. Gotta run (though, they say that you should never run from a bear. I learned that the last time I was mugged by a bear. And, I’m stronger for it.)

Blue-Haired Lady

Julianna (the blonde, blue-eyed 10-year-old) is admiring a woman’s dye job.

J: Daddy, when I get older, I want to have blue hair.

Me: Um… Why is that, Honey?

J: Because, I think it’s cool.

Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea at all.

Here comes my rant.

In LA, I routinely see people that have dyed their hair blue, tattooed their faces, or had various surgical “enhancements” that scream out: Notice me!

So, when I do in fact notice, why is it that so many of these people look at me with that “What are you looking at?” glare? Isn’t that the whole point?

Now, I understand that many people have procedures done to remove “this” or modify “that” so that they don’t stick out and can blend in.

But, I’m talking about people who go out of their way to be noticed. Then I’m the bad guy for noticing.

My wife suggests that these people already want to give me the stink eye and just need an excuse. That seems a bit extreme, but sometimes people do go out of their way to hate on me.

Case in point:

J: You’re ruining my life!

But, that’s just family stuff.

Imagine That, Part 1

Bed Time = Snuggle Time.

First up, Julianna (she’s 10):

Me: Scooch over, I know you’re ready for sleep.

J: No, I’m not. How would you know?

Me: The dolphin told me.

J: Daddy, he’s a doll. He’s not real. He doesn’t have a mouth.

Me: He, uh, used his blowhole. He’s a ventriloquist.

J: It’s sewed shut. He’s not real.

Me: I mean, he talked to me telepathically. My brain to his brain.

J: Dad, he’s a doll. He doesn’t have a brain.

Me: And, you have no imagination.

J: Yes I do!

Me: Then, you’d understand that I talked with your dolphin doll.

(pause)

J: I see what you did there. You’re weird.

Me: I know.

J: But, I love you.

Me: Aww. Thanks, Honey.

J: You’re also a Butt Face.

That’s my cue to leave, and then…

Imagine That, Part 2

Snuggle Time, Part 2.

Isabella (she’s 8) is the victim.

Iz: But, Daddy… What about me?

Me: Wait. I don’t remember you. I have another child?

Iz: Yeah, duh. Me. Since, 2007.

Me: Uh… Racking my brain… Was I here?

Iz: Um, no, you weren’t here.

Me: No?! Really… No?! So, I wasn’t here.

Iz: Well, we didn’t live in this house in 2007. So, you couldn’t be here. Like, actually, here.

Me: Oh that’s a relief. Because, Mommy and I were going to have to have a little discussion.

Iz: You’re still a Butt Face, though.

Both girls erupt into laughter.

My work here is done.

Goodnight.

Attitude

Me: Honey, please put your shoes on.

Isabella (she’s 8, and belligerent at 7:30 am): I YAM putting them on.

Me: Sweetie, quickly. We have to go.

Iz: What do you think I am doing!

Me: Isabella, please don’t give me the attitude. Just put your shoes on.

Iz: I don’t know what “attitude” is. So, how can I give you something that I don’t know what it is?

———-

Grownups:

Now, when you or I were kids, we knew what “attitude” was. Usually at the end of a belt or a ‘switch.’ Scars. To this day.

We don’t do that today…

———-

Me: No Internet for a week!

Iz: Noooooo! Daddy I’ll do anything!!

And voila, shoes. Let’s go.