‘I got schmutz on me’ – My two year old (getting her Yiddish on)
I’ve just watched ‘Farmer in the dell’, seven times in a row. Apparently… ‘this one’ is my favourite. (it really isn’t)
Any chance I can be electrocuted with a car battery or waterboarded instead? I don’t I really mean that, but I’m wallowing in self pity at the moment… and it’s making me crotchety. Well, more so than usual.
I started my day off trying to multitask. As the male of the species this is usually where things start to go wrong for me. Attempting to unlock the car, answer my phone and toss my messenger bag into the back seat, I fumbled my tupperware and dropped my plantains.
I’d like to say that I was stoic in this face of this development, C’est La Vie etc. But I’d be lying. I proceeded to annunciate some choice blasphemy, interspersed liberally with cuss words (used as conjunctions). You’d think with the amount of vitriol being espoused something serious had happened.
A grown-up would have moved on. And therein lies the rub. Unfortunately this incident turned out to be the splinter that festered and rotted the appendage off at the joint. Or something to that effect, because the rest of my day never really improved.
I’m making it better now with cure-all, restorative ice-cream, directly out of the tub, like some post breakup ritual experience. I also tried to quit my job today. Which is harder than it sounds.