grep my life
Things that I find entertaining
So, Damon and I go to lunch today. At Zen.
He orders the spicy chicken bowl, white meat, white rice.
I order the spicy chicken bowl, white meat, brown rice.
He comments
Ah, one of those brown-rice heathens, eh?
To which my reply is:
Hey, I’m not a riceist!
He’s still trying not to hit me…
But I read a line on slashdot that I wanted to share:
You should have let Schrodinger look after it.
…because at school, Grace was playing with the tea set. Her teacher asked,
“Are you making tea?”
And so, my daughter replied,
“No, I’m making Mexican Martinis for everyone, and I need olives, please!”
Ah, that’s my girl!
You know, I’m pretty sure she just wanted the olives…
I don’t know what Descartes’ got, but booze can do what Kant cannot.
— Mike Cross
Why would anyone name a soup and salad shop “obese“?
Yesterday was really the last day of summer.
Oh, yeah. I’ve started golfing.
Don’t laugh — it’s as close as I’ll ever get to real exercise.
Why announce it, however? Here’s why: I’ve finally made the transition from “Jerk with clubs in a cart” to “really, really bad golfer”.
Us: Time to go to bed!
Grace: Sorry, guys. Not going to happen.
Wow, things have really slowed down enough in my life that I can blog again?
So, a few months ago at work, I created the phrase
assholier than thou
So, what did I get for my 20th anniversary?
A new hard drive.
What did Cy get?
His email back…
Today, we each had a turn watching Grace by ourselves. We all seemed to enjoy it quite a bit!
It struck me again — not that I’ve gone on about it here — that my favorite sound is her laughter. Grace has a fantastic giggle. Cy got back home before she went down to her grandparents’ to spend the night, so he got his good-night kiss and hug before she left. It quickly escalated to knock-me-over hugs (video forthcoming) and kiss-attacks, both of which invariably cause a bout of giggles. It was almost as much fun to be a bystander!
Later, on our way to eat, we started talking about her developing sense of humor. I was noticing the resurgence of the knock-me-over hug, and remembering back to the first pun she understood:
We were upstairs in Cy’s office, long before it became as messy as it is now. I was sitting on the rug (wait for it!), and she was handing out knock-me-over hugs galore. I told her to wait a moment, and grabbed the rug, and told her to give me another knock-me-over hug. She did, but I held onto the rug, and pointed out that it wasn’t a knock-me-over hug, it was a knock-me-over rug. I was rewarded with a fresh bout of giggles!
This was at about 18 months. (That’s a year and a half to you and me.) Before that, even, there was another event we love to remember:
We were watching some news channel. It doesn’t matter which one, but it wasn’t named after an animal. There was a doctor speaking on screen. He was wearing surgical scrubs, the full get-up, including the hairnet. The scrubs were of a uniform color, but the hairnet portion was mostly white with drawings on it. Grace watched until he came on the screen, then piped up,
“He’s wearing big girl panties on his head!”
It goes back to her first joke: she would take anything — paper, food, toys, anything — and put it on her head, telling us “Hat!” Sometimes, we still get that one!
We’re really glad you’re safe, but it would not have done any good. You’ve got kids, so we know you are not a virgin…
Ah, CNN has caught up with him. I’ve saved the story, a link to the original video with commercials, and the same video downloaded in linux without commercials
Three and a half years I’ve gone, and the worst thing Grace picked up from me is the French word “merde”. However… Continue reading “Happy Father’s Day”
It was so hot, I put the top up on my car.
How hot was it?
It was so hot, I put ice in my drink.
So, at the company picnic, Grace and I swam in the Blanco river for about two hours, and oh! is my foot aching!
I’m putting her to bed, and she asks about my toe. Yes, it’s still broken. Yes, it still hurts.
Grace:
What did you do when you broke your toe?
Me:
I said some daddy words
(actually, what I said was exactly “Motherfudger”, but she doesn’t even need to know to start from that one…)
G:
What were the daddy words?
Me:
I’m not going to tell you
G:
Just tell me
Me:
No.
G:
Please?
Me:
No, and stop asking. I’m not going to teach you daddy words.
G:
Oh, just tell me and get it over with