Tag Archives: ice cream

More things that were said

People say weird things. It’s a fact.

In a previous post, I have provided examples of things that I never thought I would hear myself say. These have mostly come about as a result of mishearing someone, catching things out of context, or trying to explain things to small children. So in interest of trying to provide some form of amusement for folks on the internet, I’m going to do it again. Enjoy some more things I never thought I’d say.

#1) “It’s like the most disgusting set of jingle bells.”

#2) “Vanilla sherbet is just vanilla ice cream.”

#3) “Drum, drum, drum on my tum, tum, tum.”

#4) “It appears that it’s a festival of poo.”

#5) “The dinosaur chicken made her sad.”

#6) “Don’t touch the goat water!”

#7) “Why is she yelling about the meat?”

#8) “I guess the chipmunk looks like a frog.”

Okay, folks. That’s all I got. Sorry for the ridiculously short post. Other things have been taking priority lately, but I wanted to get at least something on this blog before June was gone. I’ll try to do better next month.

Before the coffee kicks in—the iced coffee edition

I have one child down for a nap. I have the other one playing with toys and enjoying some Nick Jr. And, importantly, I have a glass of iced coffee. We keep a pitcher of coffee in the fridge for this purpose, and we enter the time of year when my consumption of the stuff increases. Now I will let the cold caffeine molecules slither about my brain and work their magic. Meanwhile, my figures will type out the mental speed bumps they hit.

The cat is staring at me. I just cleaned her litter box. She’s probably wondering what I do with all the poop I take out.

Medical bills suck.

Phoebe had her first dance recital. It was one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.

Zoe has tried peanut butter and jelly. She seems more interested in the jelly.

Have you ever pooped so much your tail bone is sore?

I realized I now have favorite Disney princesses. When the hell did that happen?

I will never feel guilty about buying books.

My wife is very smart. In most ways, smarter than I am. But sometimes she forgets words exist and doesn’t complete a sentence. Sometimes I have to guess what comes next. I often guess it involves monkeys. I’m often wrong.

It’s probably better for the world that I can never do in real life what my D&D characters can do in a game.

Can the cat see ghosts? I’m pretty sure she can see the spectre of Death. I bet they make fun of me.

Choosing the right flavor of ice cream is important and should be taken seriously.

Two of the kid shows the girls really like are math-based shows. I can only hope this keeps them from inheriting my numerical ineptitude.

At least once a day, I want to punch myself in the face. I never do it, but it’s there.

I very much like animals and think we should be good to them. But I’ll probably never be a vegan and I’ve killed as many bugs as the average person. Not sure what that makes me other than just another human.

Never underestimate the power of guacamole.

My iced coffee has been consumed. I have nothing else to mutter about. Hope everyone has a nice day. Maybe get yourself a cookie. Or whatever your preferred treat might be. Don’t let me force a snack choice upon you.

Before the coffee kicks in—the afternoon edition

I feel like I just woke up, even though I have been going since about 7 am this morning. My children are, momentarily, contained in the playroom. The cat, once again making me question how smart she actually is, has buried herself under the covers of our bed and shows no sign of leaving. I am ready to flop down on the floor, but instead I pour myself more coffee in hopes it will revive me. So I will again take this moment to share my brain bugs, only I no longer have the excuse of having just rolled out of bed.

I sometimes wonder if a lack of opposable thumbs is the only things stopping pets from revolting.

We are using ice cream as a potty training reward. Will my daughter forever connect ice cream with poop?

I need to stop making inappropriate versions of the songs on kid’s shows.

I want the power to teleport like Nightcrawler, complete with the “BAMF” and brimstone.

Can a person actually feel themselves getting old or is that just gas?

Ben Franklin and Chris Hardwick are right. Our national bird should have been the turkey.

I can’t change how my brain works. I can just learn how to deal with it better.

Expiration dates have wiggle room, but not in years.

No one tells you that being married gives you someone who thinks it’s funny to fart on you.

The above also applies to children.

This is as far as I can go. I’m starting to over think this too much and my girls are demanding “Yo Gabba Gabba” for the second time. Also, all this coffee is making me have to pee.

Nap nap

Oh, wonderful sleep. How great it it? In the immortal words of Ralph Wiggum, “Yay, sleep! That’s where I’m a Viking!”

My kids do not realize how awesome naps and having a set bedtime are. I suppose when I was little I didn’t either. I mean, when you are a little kid, sleep must just seem like something that makes you miss out on exciting stuff. You just know that the grown-ups are doing something really great while you’re stuck  in bed. They’re probably eating lots of ice cream and playing with flying squirrels.

I will admit to the ice cream. No such luck with the squirrels.

The truth is, my girls are the lucky ones. Most of the time daddy is at work when it’s bedtime. He’s definitely not doing anything fun. The most fun I’m typically having is on the nights off when my wife and I try (and fail) to catch up with the DVR.

When I do finally go to bed, it usually takes me a bit to fall asleep since my brain wants to keep rehashing the day. Phoebe has inherited the habit of not falling asleep right away, but that’s usually because she’s talking to her toys or singing for an hour or so. Zoe, like her mother, falls asleep pretty quickly. Then of course, we have the cat who sleeps most of the time anyway. Lousy jerk Pepper. Rubbing her constant napping in my face. I know she’s mocking me!

One day, Phoebe and Zoe will be grown up and start to wish they could get more sleep. On that days, I will chant at them like some crazed doomsayer. “I warned you! Now it’s too late!”

At which point I imagine I will be put in a home. Where I can nap. A lot. See? I have a plan.