The weather put the ol' screws to my plans of an exciting last two days of my big four day weekend (mid-week, really) so I've decided to combine both days into one super-boring update blog. You know, for anyone of you who actually give a shit about what I do in my time off. Anyone? Anyone....?
Right. So, day three was a wash of rain and thunder outside, so we decided to have another day in. The morning routine was pretty similar to that of any other day: wake up, have the ceremonial changing of the diaper (the kids...not mine...not that I wear an adult diaper...well, maybe that one time...) and head on down to the living room for a bottle, some shitty a.m. television and a bowl of oatmeal. By the time all is said and done, its about ten in the morning and the sky looks like its nine in the evening. So, the events for the day included watching television, kid movies (she did eventually sit through most of a Benji film), playing with My Little Pony dolls and a bunch of book reading. After lunch, a nap and a foiled trip to the mailbox, we pretty much ran out the clock doing normal indoor activities.
To make up for the shit day, I figured a special supper was in order. I thought it might be exciting for her to have something she's never tried before: tacos! We had one of those Old El Paso kits in the cupboard, lots of ground beef in the freezer, and all the condiments to go with; no need to trip out to the grocery store. After cooking the beef, mixing the sauce, heating the shells and shredding the cheese, lettuce and tomato VERY finely, we sat down and enjoyed a meal out-of-the-ordinary.
She loved the taco supper. I've never seen a kid so young eat so many tacos. I've also never seen a kid so young throw up that many tacos two hours later.
The carpet still has a funny redish stain near the sofa.
Day four was also a shitty rainy one. Not as bad as the previous, but enough to keep us homebound and fighting for entertainment. I was determined to make the last day a good one, and after reading a suggestion by my lovely Canadian counterpart Platypuss, I decided to bake cookies!!
After a rousing morning of "events" (see "day three" paragraph) we made a trek to the grocery store to get some stuff needed for cookie bakin'. Now, I have no clue as to the procedure involved in baking cookies, so I prepared for two scenarios:
One: The baking goes off without a hitch and we all enjoy yummy, warm peanut butter cookies as per the back of the jar of Kraft extra smooth.
Two: I fuck it up worse then that time Starkweather's mom let him cut his own hair, in which case I buy the retard-proof, pre-cut, pre-formed ones.
After finding what we needed, we set for home determined to bake the best damn cookies this side of the Maple Syrup River.
Ingredients at the ready (peanut butter, sugar, eggs, etc) I set forth measuring and pouring ingriedents into a big-assed bowl. To peak the enjoyment, I let the girl mix everything with a giant spoon...which later evolved into her bare hands...at the kiddie table. She had a blast smushing the shit up and stirring it. Afterward, we spooned 'em out onto a baking sheet and fired the lot into the oven.
They were, of course, horrible. Apparently, I don't know how to follow simple instructions WITH ilustrations for the illiterate. So, we went to the fallback. I opened the can of dough, followed the giant "cut here you fucking inbred hick" pre-measured lines and placed them onto a cookie sheet as well.
These ones we good....and even had a fun little happy-face design throughout the dough, which the kid loved. We feasted on our accomplishment for the next few hours, watching TV, playing games and attempting to make a fort out of the cushions. I even busted out the guitar and knocked off a few tunes for her to jive to. Sadly, the kid is not a Clash or Oasis fan. Shame, really. Not even a to-the-letter version of Pearl Jam's "Yellow Ledbetter" would please her, so I resorted to the lowest common denominator and tried to modern-up some Raffi tunes. (Six Little Ducks does sound bad-ass on an electric...)
After supper, an episode of that awful "In The Night Garden" and a warm bottle, it was off to bed. Not a bad end to the span of days off, although I much would have prefered to do some stuff out-of-doors that didn't involve running from the car to the doors of Zehrs. Maybe next time....maybe next time.
So there it is, ladies and gentlemen of the blogs. A four-day glimpse into the inner sanctum of The Big Bad. We laughed, we cried, we threw up taco suppers on the nice, new-ish carpet. Not a bad bunch of days. Thanks to all who contributed suggestions for things to fill the time with; they were all very appreciated. (Except that whole skeet shooting one....who the fuck takes a child to a rifle range anyway??) I'll try not to make the next blogs suck so badly; its just that I started this little glimpse into my four-day and thought I should see it through 'til the end.
Cheers, and thanks for reading this far....unless you panned. (Then you're just lazy.)
-The Big Bad