Friday, December 02, 2005

Jingle What?

Reha went to book club last night, so I was in charge of the kidlets.

Usually this is fine, because I’m like the freakin’ Father of the Damn Year winner for four years straight, but tonight was a little difficult.

Someone called and reminded me that I’d signed up for the Red Cross Blood Drive and was I planning on showing up or should they just pack it in? Ooops. Be right there, blood people!

Blood people have no sense of humor. I said that I’d had AIDS once, but I got over it quickly and boy was that a bitch! NO SMILES. Not even amused tolerance. Then, after I was done filling the bag, I said that their questionnaire really should ask about hemophilia before they stuck me with a needle. Again… nada.

When I got home I had to help Lucas make an entire set of armor out of plywood, spray paint and a salvaged dresser. Has he known about this project for over two weeks? Yep. Did he just start trying to re-create Mediaeval Times at 7:30? That’s a Roger!

And Carrie is totally fired from anything having to do with looking for stuff. I was in the kitchen constructing both dinner and the shield for Lucas’ project and I had sent Jonah to bed. He’s not such a great go-straight-to-bed kind of guy. There’s a certain wandering quality he exhibits right before bed. You can’t just tell him to go to bed and expect that to stick. Sometimes you have to beat him WITH a stick in order to get him to follow orders. I yelled into the living room to Carrie, “Is Jonah there or did he go to bed?” “He’s gone.” “Great.”

I walk in the room two minutes later, Jonah’s on the couch, pretending to be asleep and telling me that he can sleep better if there’s noise and he’s on the couch. “Carrie, I thought you said he wasn’t there on the couch.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t know you meant NOW.”

“But he’s been there the whole time, right? Right, Jonah?” Jonah nods.

“Umm. I guess I missed him.”

“You missed him. I can imagine how easy that must have been, what with him looking over your shoulder and breathing all over you. And he’s so well camouflaged in his underwear there. Why, you’d have to keep looking straight ahead and NOT EVEN turn around in order to overlook him sprawled all over the couch there. Tricky, tricky, tricky.”

But here’s a good one. I’m humming to myself in the kitchen and had this exchange with E., while she solemnly drank chocolate milk and watched Lucas paint things:

“What do the bells on bobtails do, E?”

“Ring,” she deadpans.

“And then what do they do to the spirits?”

“Make them bright.”

“And is it fun?”

“Oh, what fun.”

[silence for a moment]

“Can I paint now, Daddy?”

Holiday joy on tap here at the Deal compound 24/7 during the Season.

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