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Friday, June 15, 2012

And now for something different

Once upon a Sunday morning, while I slept in, only slightly snoring,
My dreams of boats with two stroke engines, and Victoria’s secrets galore,
Were rudely interrupted by sounds of crapping, most flatulent crapping,
As of some Beagle quietly mapping, mapping her placement of morning spoor.
My wife will clean it, I hoped, quietly she will sweep and mop up the floor.
I rolled over and continued to snore.

I still had small hopes to spoon, after all it was the middle of June,
This day is Fathers day and for me, poor me, it’s times four.
I listened for mopping, impatiently waiting, hoping for spit swapping,
Yet instead I heard waking, waking toddlers, treading through canine spoor.
“Oh those kids, those loud kids, (thanks to my potency), times four,
Mopping will last forevermore!”

Brilliant light then came streaming, accompanied by toddlers screaming,
Panicked, afraid, I hid myself and prayed, ‘please no more!’
My prayer unheard, I smelled the Beagle turd, as on they came beaming.
“Not today!“ I cried, “Go away!“, I lied, “I’m asleep, close my door!”
The smell increased, they smelled long deceased, these children coated in filthy spoor.
It’s a nightmare, I wept, only that and nothing more.

I’ll escape, I‘ll fish all day, I planned, and up I jumped naked and tanned,
I stiff armed a child, and leapt over something piled, nearly missed avoiding some spoor.
Quickly, I dressed, tired, angry, and sexually repressed,
Yet If I hurried quicker, I might slip slicker out the back door.
“Children move now! Please I am begging you! I implore!”
Still, on they came, covered in spoor.

Failing to sleep in, spoon, or fish, I resigned to question the children four,
“Where is your mother?, HEY DON’T HIT YOUR BROTHER! The store?
“AAARGH!“, cried I, look at this sty, you’re all covered with disgusting spoor,
I sank to my knees, and begged them please, tell me I’m dreaming.
Then I heard a rumbling, as if something rolling and tumbling,
And I knew, it was the garage door.

Scared more than ever, I thought only of heather, or escape to a distant shore.
I knew my only chance would be to dash when SHE stepped in through the door.
While it may be a day for Dad’s, she wouldn't tolerate my letting these tads,
Crash and boom, causing destruction and doom through piles of Beagle spoor.
I braced myself for what was to come, I just stood there quiet, deaf and dumb,
I stared afraid at the garage door.

The door opened and there my wife stood, her features were fierce, not good,
I could see she was accosted by the smells that wafted anywhere wafting could,
So in an effort to avoid the incredible yelling and additional smelling in store,
I dashed forward half naked, kissed her cheek and then stated
Honey, my dear, I love you, I’m off to go fishing, I’ll be thinking of you.
By the way, for my Fathers day, could you clean up this spoor.
As I began to drive away, there came a cry of a feminine sway, “NEVERMORE!
I smiled and laughed, my eyes dancing, soon I would be casting these cares away.
When came a new rumbling, louder this time, causing my good mood crumbling,
I turned back, giving up fishing with pain, I could plainly see, it was going to rain.
“Honey I am back, to help you wash the spoor.” (forevermore)

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Kids aren't Bats, They are Dogs

Dear Dad,

               I would like to call your attention to a recent scientific study in Switzerland that deduced human children must actually be a species of bat. A bat that inevitably matures and evolves into a more primate like being. Swiss science has shown that while underdeveloped and unable to fly, most children still believe they can fly and will attempt doing so, often with disastrous ends. Numerous tests also confirmed that children must be blind as they constantly bump into objects, typically breaking them. The subjects studied emitted high pitched squeals that seemed to be an attempt to locate food sources. Subjects were often found sleeping with their heads hanging upside down over the edge of their beds. In a country wide test four out of every five Swiss children were observed eating bugs and it is speculated the remainder ingested their insects more secretively. Subjects were often awake in the middle of the night when humans are supposed to be asleep. The study is quite convincing.

               The only problem that I have with this study though is that bats have exceptional hearing! I think I can prove that human children do not actually hear. I believe that children have a mechanism in their brain that interprets sound waves based on decibel levels and then auto-react based on those interpretations. Actual hearing noise and understanding it doesn't happen until late adolescence. I have a story that I believe backs this up and thus disproves Swiss theory.

              As a parent I have noticed that my children do stupid things when I yell. They immediately react to my yells in a manner that has nothing to do with the words I am yelling. For example if you yell at a child to ‘COME HERE’ the child will run away. If you yell ‘CLEAN YOUR ROOM’ the child will sit down in the middle of said ‘dirty’ room and wail that they are thirsty. When I yell ‘CLEAN YOUR ROOM’ my four year old son gets thirsty and my five year old daughter immediately has to go to the bathroom. When I yelled ‘GIVE ME THE WRENCH’ to my son (ten at the time) he looked up at the ceiling and spun around in a circle. I can’t believe that all four of my children are mentally inferior, and since they are decidedly not bats, (no pun intended) I believe they must be reacting to sound levels interpreted by their small underdeveloped brains. They do not actually hear words.

            This is how I got a fish hook in my face! Let me explain.

            I took my eleven year old son fishing. To be a ‘cool’ dad, I let him steer the boat under the power of an electric trolling motor. Since it only propels the boat at 2 mph top speed, I figured what the heck.

           I spent the majority of the fishing trip yelling through clenched teeth over clenched butt cheeks.





            You get the Idea. Naturally Cameron’s wee sized neural center associated my decibel level with a need to counter steer the boat. Later that afternoon my fishing line became snagged on a lily pad. I observed that the boat was headed strait for the snag. Good I thought, no problem here. As I leaned over the bow of the boat with my arm under water and my face close to the lake surface, I yelled over the wind at my son quite clearly, “CAMERON YOU ARE DOING GREAT, JUST KEEP GOING STRAIGHT!

             Cameron’s brain was very quick to deduce the boat needed to be turned sharply to the left. The fishing line tightened, the root of the lily pad gave way. My head snapped back from the force of the lily pad striking me, and dangling from my cheek was some new jewelry with the shape and texture of a rubber minnow.

             Cameron hasn’t been fishing with me for a few weeks now. His brain deduced from my decibel level that he should take up video games for a month or two before renewing his fishing experiences.

             Long story short the Swiss are incorrect. Children are not ‘bats.’ Children are also not deaf. They just don’t hear the way we do. It is obviously far more likely that children are dogs. My dog also only reacts to the tone of my voice, unless I say ‘Hot Dog.’ She seems to understand that. All four of my kids seem to get that one too.


          Your loud and newly pierced son.