sick and tired

X was sick last week; I’m sick this week. I don’t take kindly to her statements that somehow say “I managed to go to law school while sick yet you decide to stay at home and recover.” Actually, that is exactly what she said. I think law school is much more important.

A few weeks back X gave me four kid’s serial books to use as wampum for the boys – but what they’ve become is some version of the Lost Ark for G. I swear I saw him wandering around the house the other day wearing a fedora and carrying a bullwhip ready for adventure. I broke out two of them on the drive to the Aquarium last week and explained that their mother has given me four to use as ‘well-done’ markers, or garlic, or crosses, or wooden stakes, or silver bullets…whatever. They quickly did the math (!) and figured there must be two leftovers hidden somewhere in the house. (I immediately moved them from the upper reaches of my bookshelf to the trunk of the car. Ha! they’ll never find them.) G. has often wondered aloud about the house, saying things like “did we do anything good to get the books?”; or, “is there anything else good we can have?” (this being after they’d been given a new computer game); and, the always helpful, “where the hell are the damn books!” He didn’t say that last one but I can see it everyday in his eyes.

Corey and I decided to spend an afternoon away from the WonderTwins. We headed to the bar to watch football, drink beer, and hang around with the other ball-and-chain parolees. Wait, that wasn’t it. We went shopping at a spice store and came right back home; I know, you’re thinking testosterone. The problem with leaving the twins unsupervised is they end up nattering at each other and hatching uncited, and unresearched, dinner plans. Around 5pm we find out about the soup, smoked fish, salad, and dessert plan for the evening. I managed to talk X down from the ledge, delay the dinner until 6:30pm., and scurry out the door for more fish and necessities. A little story about perception. Kt felt there was plenty of fish available for five adult dinners with enough left over for fish tacos the following night. Corey believed there were only three small pieces meant to feed the two of them one night. X told me the two of them were daft and I needed to step in for inspection of fish status and put forth the ultimate decision. This is my life. If someone needs beating up, get Corey. Woodworking? Corey. Car repair? Corey. Figuring out if there’s enough tilapia for dinner? I’m coming off the bench. I got more fish – and cut in line at the register just to prove my manhood…that vegan I knocked out of the way never had a chance…picture earth shoes flying through the air. Bang!

The Larry Brown books are quite good.

More later.

T.