Monday, August 11, 2003

Indiana Queen and the Toddler of Doom
So, after a long day of being tested mentally and physically by a toddler (It was horrible. Just horrible.), Fresh and I collapsed on the couch and watched Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

We whine about our jobs but at least we don’t have to face Nazis and snakes and swords and tanks and stuff. Mind you, Indy must have a real sense of job satisfaction at the end of the day. Nothing like the Holy Grail to make a day’s work worthwhile. Even if you don’t get to keep it.

So, the continuing education catalogue is out. I’m particularly interested in Scat Singing or African Drumming. And I still like the idea of the Improv class. Magic 8 ball is rooting for Improv.

Wit and Wisdom of the Ice Prince
Ice Prince and I made chocolate chip cookies yesterday afternoon.
I.P.: I want six cookies.
Me: There’s no way I’m giving you six cookies.
I.P.: Five cookies.
Me: No.
I.P.: Three.
Me. Forget it.
I.P.: Five!
Me: Now you’re not even negotiating in the right direction.
I.P.: Six. Six cookies.
Me.: Do you even understand English?
I.P.: COOKIES! (insert toddler melt down here)

Let it be noted that he’d already had three cookies and some cookie dough, so I’m not supermean. Well, not in this instance.

Seen and Heard
What appeared to be a spray painted graffiti picture of an incontinent Stormtrooper. I expect it was meant to be something rude. People! There's a reason why they're called graffiti artsts. Leave it to the professionals.


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