I’m Fine

Posted in Humor on June 22, 2010 by mldeugau

North Americans build conversations out of complaining. 

The English, famous for their stiff upper lip, call this whinging. Whinging is whining with a steadfast commitment.  I know this because I had English roommates were always telling me to, “Stop whinging.”  But it was London; it was winter; it was raining; and I thought the English liked to talk about the weather.  In their defense, it was London; it was winter; it was raining; they just wanted me to shut up already. In retrospect it’s a miracle I didn’t find myself tits up in the Thames. “You don’t understand,” I told them, “this is the way North Americans make conversation.”

It follows that if a conversation starts with a complaint it will drift into advice.  The advice is almost always as vacuous and meaningless as the complaint that prompted it.

 I am recommending some new responses to traditional complaints.  They will not make you popular but you will hear less whinging.

“I have a headache.”  The standard response is, “why don’t you take an aspirin.”  Instead try, “I have Tylenol suppositories in my purse would you like to borrow one.”  It is important to emphasize the word borrow.

If someone complains about the weather, you are expected to sympathize and agree.  Instead, try giving them the estimated temperature reading from the dark side of the moon, then mention you are planning a trip.  You don’t actually say you are going to the dark side of the moon, but if you’ve already offered them a suppository you may not have to.

“Kids these days!”  This is the oldest and most pedestrian of complaints and it really gets my ire. I suspect, the people who say this are jealous, because kids are further from death than they are.  Instead of joining, announce that you are involved with a new campaign called Neuter the World and you are looking for volunteers.  Whip out a colouring book and some crayons and ask them to sign up. 

Before you write me off as mean and heartless, you need to know I have been sympathetic and helpful my whole life.  I’ve also spent a lot of time whinging.  Now I’m burnt out on both ends.   

Let’s stick to lying to each other. Like my mother, she could be running from a pack of mad dogs and dragging one kidney behind her and if you asked how she was, she always said, “I’m fine.”

Furry Kids

Posted in Humor, Parenting, Pets on June 15, 2010 by mldeugau

For those annoying cat owners who continue to offer real parents advice drawn from their well spring of experience raising a kitten, this is for you.

To be fair there are parallels.

  • You can name them whatever you want. (I once had a cat named Brigadier General Zebulon Montgomery Pike. Zeb for short.  He ran away.)
  • Whatever you name them they won’t come when you call.
  • Your furniture is toast.  
  • Make your peace with puke, poop and piddle.  If you wretch too, you’ll have twice as much to clean up.
  • There will be howling in the middle of the night. Figuring out why is all part of the fun.
  • There will be fights with other cats/kids.  Just like the howling, figuring out why is all part of the fun.
  • They will need their shots.
  • Puberty is going to be noisy and smelly.

Now for the distinctions

  • When puberty hits you get your cat fixed.  While this would solve so many problems for real parents, it is not an option.
  • You can leave your cat at home alone while you go to work and when you return you still have your cat and you’re not a felon.
  • If the cat continues to tear up the furniture you can get it declawed.  There is no comparable surgery for a seven year old that does more bouncing on your bed than you do.
  • You can have sex with a cat in the room and not end up on 60 Minutes.
  • If your cat keeps you awake at night you can put it out.  Need I say more?
  • Cats sleep 16 hours a day. I repeat. Cats sleep 16 hours a day. 
  • Show a kitten a litter box and potty training is over.  Show a kid a toilet and they will flush their rubber ducky.  The sound of a toilet flushing and my son saying, “Bye-Bye,” still makes me sweat blood.
  • Cats don’t ask questions.  They already know you don’t know anything.  A kid will interrogate for 12 years, before deciding you don’t know anything.  
  • Your cat will never sit in a shrink’s office, talking about what a terrible parent you were and then send you the bill.
  • And last but not least, if your cat turns out to be an unmanageable unredeemable psycho you have options that are quite simply unthinkable for human parents.

Nuff said.

Run Away

Posted in Humor on June 10, 2010 by mldeugau

I’ve had several out of body experiences.  I didn’t die on an operating table. I didn’t almost drown and have my life flash before my eyes. But I have stood outside my own body and watched in horror as my mouth keep on moving, when I should have shut up. The ethereal self was pulling her hair and vaguely resembled that famous painting, The Scream. Which is fitting because she was screaming, “Shut up.” 

 Trying to get out of trouble the same way I got into it, makes no sense, but panic and sense do not work together, in fact panic dismisses sense as effectively as it negates bladder control.   Panic provides the energy for the jaw to keep jawing when the feet should be fleeing. 

 Now, there’s an option.  I wonder how that would work? You meet an old friend.  She’s packed on a little padding around the middle.  You ask when the baby is due. She pointedly informs you she is not pregnant.  Could you not just run away?  I wonder if you should scream as you flee and I wonder how long it would take for the ambulance to arrive?

Before we dismiss fleeing as a viable option, we need to explore the alternative.  Is there really anyway to stay and fix this and furthermore, do you really want to?  Wouldn’t you really rather be any where but there?  Poking around in a mine field, bandaging lepers, working for the tax department, they are all pleasant alternatives to where you have found yourself at this moment in time. And as for the words to fix it, there are none.  Anything you say after that bomb shell will only further establish that she is fat and your head is fatter.

 If there are words, these might be suitable, “I’m an idiot.  Please forgive me.”  I suggest yelling them over your shoulder as you’re running away.

One Bear Two Bear

Posted in Humor on June 9, 2010 by mldeugau

We have at least two bears in town. Town is Blue River, British Columbia, Canada, 260 souls surrounded by wilderness.  We know we have at least two bears because  a local restaurant had a captive clientele with one bear at the entrance and another at the exit.  Alcohol sales spiked that day. 

My dog and one of the local bears are in cahoots.  She’s a little dog.  It’s a big bear.  She’s not the one who tears the garbage bag to smithereens the bear does that, she just digs into it in the morning when it’s all laid out for her like a doggie buffet. 

I haven’t seen this bear but I’ve heard about it from the neighbor’s dogs.  Apparently the bear likes to lumber down the alley at night and taunt the fenced in dogs. One of the dogs is named Bear and the real bear may be strolling by just to prove a point.

The theory is that bears are shy of dogs because they associate them with wolves and wolf packs.  I think this bear has figured out that these dogs are not wolves because wolves don’t live behind fences and bark when I turn on the porch light.

Another theory with bears is that you shouldn’t run. Running makes you dinner delivery going the wrong way.  And you can’t outrun a bear.  You should stand your ground, make noise and make yourself look big.  I’m not sure I can do all that and crap myself at the same time.

My brother-in-law makes a living by picking the wild greens that are used in floral displays.  He had two bags full of the stuff, when he spotted the bear.  He made a lot of noise and held the bags up over his head, making himself larger than life. The bear ran.  I think now is a good time to point out that had the garbage bags been full of actual garbage this story may have had a different outcome.

All This And Incontinence Too

Posted in Humor, Middleage, Uncategorized on June 8, 2010 by mldeugau

If you’ve been neglecting your Kegel exercises of late, this may be of use to you.

It promises to get you where you are trying to go, namely the bathroom, with minimal leakage. 

I perfected this in grade one, when potty training was not such a dim memory. My goal at the time was the bathroom and when the teacher asked me what I was doing I replied, “I’m dancing”.  There was laughter but there were no puddles.

I call this elegant move the rocking crotch lock.  One foot is in front of the point of leakage and one foot is behind the point of leakage.  The thighs are clenched together at the aforementioned point of leakage.  It is then possible to rock towards your target. 

I prefer this position to the splayed at the knees method, which while allowing the point of leakage to be effectively sealed, does not allow for speedy forward movement.  It is also raises hell with your arthritis.  Furthermore it reeks of ridiculing the disabled, while the rocking crotch lock is more like ridiculing modern dance.

Unfortunately, I have no suggestions for men who may experience similar problems, except to “pick a tree, any tree.”