A Cryptic Post

If I’m ever on fire, rolling on the floor, crying and waving my arms around… Please consider it implied that I want you to put the fire out.

Don’t tell me I wasn’t clear enough about telling you I wanted the fire out because I didn’t actually say: “Please with a cherry on top, would you be kind enough to put those pesky flames out please?”.

Not that there’s anything wrong with flaming every once in a while. But burning alive is another thing.

Mitchell: “Look at that. Two things flaming at once.”

In 94 days.

Instant dad – Just add fire.

As my workday drew to a close, I was dreading returning home. I was picturing myself sanding drywall compound, vacuuming, painting, cleaning up, taking a shower and finally sitting down around 8, completely exhausted. a repeat of my weekend if you will. I was getting tired just thinking about it.

Of course, as is often the case, life wouldn’t let me be just miserable like that. Oh hell to the no.

The first ting that happened was, of course, was the disappearance of my bus pass as I’m getting on the bus. So I had to find an ATM, since LovelyWife takes all of my money…

Oh wait. I need to explain that. 

My LovelyWife never goes to the ATM. She just takes money from my wallet. Yes, she asks before. All in all, it doesn’t matter because we only have one shared banked account. but the net result is that I’m the one who walks around without money, and I’m the one who has to go to the ATM all the time. Sometimes she’ll hint that I go to much to the ATM – but that’s a completely different post.

Anyways, as I was saying, I had to find an ATM to get some money. And then I had to buy something somewhere to get some change to take the bus. 

Now might be a good time to mention it started raining, yes?

So finally I manage to get on the bus and I’m just about ready to forget about sanding drywall compound, vacuuming, painting, cleaning up, taking a shower and finally sitting down around 8, completely exhausted. I’m thinking I’ll skip ahead to the drinking and sleeping. 

Of course, this was still not enough.

This guy I know stepped on the bus and we had a whole conversation about the death of the traditional media – because of blogging, tweeting, and other “lesser medias” – but that’s a completely different post.

Toujours est-il que, I finally get home and I’m greeted by the smell of smoke and fire! But it was only LovelyWife cooking dinner. Whew.

Then I saw CutieDaughter and AudaciousSon, both sitting at the dinner table, looking guilty.

“What’s going on?”

Well, long story short, my kids were playing with matches – setting fire to things – in the park. Needless to say, I flipped out a little. After one hour of discussion, I sent them to bathe, brush their teeth and straight to bed.

I think they got it.

But I tell you, it’s not easy trying to be a good parent. What I did was talk things through, explain how fire is really dangerous, how it can change your life forever or even kill you. I asked them why they were curious about fire, why did they do it despite knowing it was wrong. What I really want to do is wait for one in the morning and set the fire alarm off, and then make them run out of the house in their PJ’s to scare the crap out of them. But I can’t do that. You’re never allowed to do anything fun when you’re a parent.

If only I knew a one-arm man. I could also teach them why they shouldn’t eat ice cream in the car. On the next Arrested Development…

P.S.: Yes, I still got to  sand drywall compound, vacuum, paint, clean up, took a shower and I’m finally sitting down – it’s now 11h41, completely exhausted.

Fire! Fire!

It’s just a tiny little garbage fire, in the container behing my backyard. WITH 20 FEET HIGH FLAMES OF DEATH!!! Quick, get the guitar and the marshmallows – and maybe a steak!

Here’s a video of it… 😉

Firemen told me that it was the second fire in the same sector in the last hour.