Y'all should know that one's own family really rocks. Yup, there's no better way to regain the sense of what you're all about than to spend a few days with your blood.
Just take Baird to Hastings (just before the viaduct) and your head will swing back on straight.
Thank you, big Sis, for putting up with me. Ben and Dillon, I wish you both a lifetime of unharsh. Baby Abby -- don't get P.O.'d!
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Toe Truck Teken
Vahgeen Azzle says: When moving a big, overstuffed lounge chair, it is a good idea to wear shoes. Why? Because it is possible to pull the big, heavy chair backwards over your foot, but not quite make it over the foot. Then the toenail on your big toe gets ripped nearly off and you will experience discomfort. When I say "discomfort", what I mean is eye-watering, can't-breathe, dog whistle scream, multiple-expletive PAIIIIIIINNNNN!!!! Oh, then there's the blood. Anyways, when moving heavy things, remember: shoes good, bare feet bad.
Teken: Vahgeen Azzle
So, I just spent the last three days and nights in Green Bay with Mom in intensive care. She was nearly dead. But some long hours, and a game or five of "inflated non-latex glove volleyball" later, she's getting better. Whew.
Anyway, so I get back to Wausau and go visit my kids, whom I missed and hugged furiously. Played together from about 6pm to about 9 or so. Later, I get a call from X asking where I am. "Home", I say, 'cause that's where I was. See, it seems that she didn't get home until around ten last night, so the kids were alone for about an hour. At 9 and 12 years old, they're home most days alone while X is at work.
But noooooooooo, after their hour alone I get a call from what sounds like a drunk, angry hornet. When I tried to reason with her and find out why she was swearing at me, I got a very concise answer: "Bucuzzz yer a Vahgeen Azzle!". Despite the slur and the abruptly ensuing hang-up, I got the translation.
Well there you have it. I bend over backwards to make our divorce as friendly and comfortable for the kids and her as possible. In fact, I'm going bankrupt doing it. She's living in a huge condo with cathedral ceilings and art prints while I'm -- well, not. But I'm a vahgeen azzle.
Super.
Anyway, so I get back to Wausau and go visit my kids, whom I missed and hugged furiously. Played together from about 6pm to about 9 or so. Later, I get a call from X asking where I am. "Home", I say, 'cause that's where I was. See, it seems that she didn't get home until around ten last night, so the kids were alone for about an hour. At 9 and 12 years old, they're home most days alone while X is at work.
But noooooooooo, after their hour alone I get a call from what sounds like a drunk, angry hornet. When I tried to reason with her and find out why she was swearing at me, I got a very concise answer: "Bucuzzz yer a Vahgeen Azzle!". Despite the slur and the abruptly ensuing hang-up, I got the translation.
Well there you have it. I bend over backwards to make our divorce as friendly and comfortable for the kids and her as possible. In fact, I'm going bankrupt doing it. She's living in a huge condo with cathedral ceilings and art prints while I'm -- well, not. But I'm a vahgeen azzle.
Super.
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