Doug hired a tree service to cut down seventeen more of our trees. He claims oak trees are commonly called “widow-makers,” because their branches rot quickly, fall off and strike men dead as they go about working in their yards. I’m thinking another good way to become a widow-maker is to cut down all your wife’s trees. Just a thought.
My Nonsensical Thought of the Day
Damn, I’m good.
While trimming Anna’s dainty little fingernails, I nicked a fingertip and drew blood. After being consumed by guilt, I did a little quick math. Each week I am in charge of clipping 30 little fingers and 30 little toes. Myself included, that’s a total of 80 digits all under my care, and 79 out of 80 ain’t bad. Come to think of it, instead of manicures and pedicures, I should be performing heart surgeries. Any takers?
Say goodnight, Gracie
A conversation between me, Eva and her teacher as I picked her up from school:
Me: “Say, ‘bye, Miss Sue!'”
Eva: “Bye, Miss Sue!”
Miss Sue: “Say, ‘Bye, friends!’”
Eva: “Bye, friends!”
Miss Sue (to class): “Say, ‘Bye, Eva!’”
Eva: “Bye, Eva!”
Starting the day you become a parent, those George and Gracie moments never get old.
I hope I never have to use this.
In Doug’s infinite ecological wisdom, he decided to recycle a bottle of Right Guard. Anna fished it out of the recycling and took a shower fresh bite.
Fast forward to 2024:
Anna: “You are so uncool. Why can’t you be like (insert name of every friend she ever had)’s mom? I wish I was never born. I wish YOU were never born. I wish our entire lineage never existed!”
Me: “Dude, you ate your dad’s deodorant.”
I win.