Birthday?

My balloon.
And yes, that's an M&M character in a recliner on my fireplace mantle behind me. Don't act surprised.

So, last weekend my house got hit by a car. The week was, generally speaking, about as fun as you'd imagine. Calls to insurance companies, visits from adjusters, and so on.

We have a lot to be thankful for and we know it. Even so, it's easy to let the situation get us down. There's a lot to do and we have to move slowly until Insurance gets everything squared away.

And then I went out into the backyard and found a birthday balloon. A deflated, puny, faded-lime-green balloon that says "Happy Birthday" on it. On a string.

Even in difficult times, there can be small gifts to bring us great joy.

Either that, or somebody's trying to speed up my birthday cycle so I'll die faster.

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Car vs. House

This will be my only blog post this week. We're going to be a little busy fixing our house.



Yeah. Good times. Now I have to admit, if you're going to get your house hit by a car, this is the way to do it. The driver was not belligerent, and immediately took full responsibility. That's the garage he crushed, not a living area (although a couple of airborne bricks did break out a bedroom window). Despite the garage being so wonderfully crumbled, the cars inside were not damaged. The driver is insured. My wife and I were not hurt.

I would like to point out, for the record, that the perpetrator was a damn dirty Sooner.



After a lot of hard work (mostly by my dad), things are looking better out there. We're going to be fine. But things are nutty enough around here that I figured a blog break was in order.

Stay safe! I hope your week is less chaotic than mine is likely to be.

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Nicknames

As I've mentioned before, my wife's sister-in-law is pregnant. The in-laws are about to become Grandparents, and they're very excited. One of MIL's (Mother-In-Law) extremely intelligent (*cough* *notreally* *cough*) friends is helping them to plan out all the minor details.

Super-Intelligent Buddy, about to lose 5 dollars

A few days ago, Super-Intelligent Buddy called MIL in more or less a panic. "What is the baby going to call you?", she demanded.

"I don't know," MIL said. "Grandma and Grandpa, I imagine."

Super-Intelligent Buddy pressed the issue. It was suddenly very important that MIL and FIL plan what the baby would call them. "Grandma" and "Grandpa" were not sufficient. Would they use "Grandma Firstname", "Grandma Lastname", or nicknames? What nicknames? C'mon, this is *important*!

After a few minutes of "It doesn't matter," and "This is critical!", my MIL decided to do what any sane person would do. She started giving out ridiculous answers.

Super-Intelligent Buddy misses a hint

"We'll go with Bones and Butt-hole."
"No, no, no... you're not thin enough to use 'Bones' as a nickname."

MIL's claws came out. Super-Intelligent Buddy didn't even realize what she'd said... typical of her.

"We'll use Big Boss and Big Gut, then."
"No, that's too silly."

"Sawtooth and Superfly?"
"Too dramatic."

"I think we'll go with Moo-moo and Poo-poo."

Super-Intelligent Buddy required reading

"Too gross."

Eventually MIL pretended the line had static and hung up. Super-Intelligent Buddy never realized how annoying she was being, and she never explained why the name question was so important.

On the off chance that it matters, my wife and I decided on some nicknames for ourselves so the new Niece / Nephew will know what to call us. My wife will be 'Auntie Princess' and I'll be 'Julie Andrews'.

I'm glad we got that sorted out in time.

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'Fraidy-Cat

Big Dawg moved recently, and his pet cat isn't used to the new place yet. The poor 'fraidy-cat is terrified of all the new noises.

Kitty scares easily

The cat gets scared when the air conditioner turns on.

He's afraid of voices from the hallway.

He's scared by the motorized automatic litter box.

He panics when the air conditioner turns *off*.

He's mortified by the window washers outside.

Basically, the only thing Big Dawg's cat does not fear is Big Dawg himself. The best part of the story-telling involved Big Dawg mimicking his cat's movements... such a large man should not be able to so easily imitate feline grace. I think he practices in a mirror.

Like this, only more cat-ish

SWoaN suggested Big Dawg get some earplugs for his cat, so he won't hear all the evil noises around him. I started to laugh. "Now I have a mental picture of your cat with huge noise cancelling headphones, overbalanced so he's walking with his hind legs up in the air."

Just then, OoRah wandered over into the conversation. I greeted him warmly. "So, airborne cat hinder got your attention?"

I shouldn't be so mean. He'll probably kill me in my sleep some day.

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Happy Labor Day!

Happy Labor Day!



L8R

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Ice Cream Man For The Win

Recently, my wife's brother and his bride visited the parents to deliver some happy news. Our Sister-In-Law is pregnant!

Obviously, there was much rejoicing. Father-In-Law (FIL) decided that they needed a family picture with the four of them to mark the occasion.

The only problem was that they needed someone to take the picture. Not to worry, said FIL, he would go across the street and get a neighbor to come over and help.

Neighbor Guy wasn't home. FIL was dejected, until he heard the familiar little tune of an approaching ice cream truck.

FIL jumped into the street and waved for the ice cream man to stop. "Will you come in and take our picture?", he begged.

Moments later, FIL walked into the house with the ice cream man following. MIL was shocked. "Can I help you?..."

"This is my friend,...", FIL began. Then, he looked behind him. "What was your name again?" Ice Cream Man started to speak, but FIL cut him off. "He's going to take our picture!"

After snapping a few pictures, Ice Cream Man also got to dust the top of some tall cabinets, change the oil in FIL's car and re-tar a section of the roof. FIL tipped him 5 dollars.

Thank you, Ice Cream Man!

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Lost Dog

I was driving home the other day and saw a guy in an old truck cruising my neighborhood. He was driving slowly down the middle of the road, blocking everything and handing out fliers to people as he passed.

Have you seen me?

"I've lost my dog," he kept saying. "Have you seen him?"

The interesting part was the reactions he'd get. People looked at him like he was crazy. "No... I *still* haven't seen your dog... maybe you should try another street?"

During the 45 minutes it took to drive half a block down to my house, I gathered that this was at least his third trip through the neighborhood. He was doing an exhaustive single-street search for his departed canine.

When he got to my house, he parked in the road and blocked my driveway. My wife walked out and pointed, trying to get him to leave. He gave her a flier instead. "Have you seen my dog?"

My wife told him to search other streets, but he just handed her more fliers. She yelled at him that he was blocking my way into the driveway, but he just nodded and handed her yet another flier.

She started throwing fliers back through his window. He patiently handed them back to her.

Love me!

I plucked a flier out of the air (they were floating around like leaves in fall). Then, I backed up and left the neighborhood.

I drove to a local animal shelter and picked out a dog that looked similar to the one on the bozo's flier. I went back home to find him still blocking my driveway. Our yard was paved with fliers.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Is this your dog?"

The guy looked back and his eyes widened in unimaginable joy. His nightmare had been averted! Saint Jeff the Wise had found his poor lost dog! "Yes!" he yelped, tears in his eyes. "That's my dog! You found him! Thank you!"

Sorry, but I'm allergic to crazy people

I let the dog loose. The terrified pup took off, running as far and as fast from my house as he could.

"Go get him," I said to the bozo. His tires squealed as he took up the pursuit. My driveway was cleared.

Problem solved.

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