**WITH UPDATE**
...totally off topic, but I'll use this space today to apologize for not keeping up with YOUR blogs too well these days...I'm not getting a lot of computer time right now, and yes, I AM suffering, thanks for asking...
Back in the day when we were sacrificing human beings on the alter to ensure a good crop of millet, people did not go around tempting fate by showing off about their kids. Gods were vengeful beings and jealous too: you didn't want to piss them off. If a child was particularly smart you would shout to the skies, "Holy crap, I've got rutabagas in the pantry with more brains than that chowder head son of mine." If a daughter was comely, parents would shake their heads in the marketplace and say loudly, "Our baby Bloodwyn is so ugly a small fry-up may be in order." Them heathen folk were pretty serious about their superstitions.
Baby Fangs WAS an unbelievably good baby. She never cried. She slept through the night. She rarely pooped, and when she did, her movements were compact, and thoughtfully timed. Then dumb old momburger had to go and say she was "perfect" on her blog. Almost immediately, Baby Fangs turned cranky on me, in a sort of fingers-down-a-chalkboard kind of way. It's not like she shrieks or howls a lot. She just whines all the time. All the time. ALL THE TIME. And when she's not whining, she filling her diaper. Obviously Zeus or somebody big and powerful reads my blog, and while part of me, I'll admit, is sort of flattered, mostly I'm just kind of bummed off at myself. Teach me to be so damn show-offy. Tomorrow, I'll offer up a sacrifice in the form of a guy whose talents include assembling a mean-looking Santa Claus trophy (for yes, can you believe it, he actually MADE that thing) so I can get my good-tempered baby back. I would lie and explain I'm sacrificing my first born child to help sweeten the pot a little, but I am so young-looking that I know the gods would get a little suspicious when they saw the advanced age of my offering. Ha ha ha ha ha. Ha.
Actually, now that I think about it, I may well have carved out a terrible fate for poor Mr. Stupid Computer Hog Autocratjerkassgrrrrrr!! Calling him "Mr. IQ" for all those months may well have been no more wiser than calling my baby "perfect", and punishment may be doled out in the form of a large frying pan crashing down from the heavens onto his million dollar cranium. Then I'll be stuck with a vacant, smiling fool who spends most of his days in a corner, contentedly petting his sole possession, a small rubber mouse named "George." Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Mr. IQ 20,000,000 needs the computer back. Much as I hate to leave, I must.
***UPDATE:***
The "stupid" in Mr. Stupid Computer Hog Autocratjerkassgrrrr looks so harsh and is kind of haunting me this morning. Naturally I don't mean stupid as in he's stupid. I mean stupid in the sense that it's stupid he's hogging the computer all the time. You know that, don't you? Arrgghh, I think I need to quit blogging, if you don't actually know me personally you probably think I'm just a horrible person.
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7 comments:
Well, I don't know you personally, but you are a person that makes me laugh nearly every time I check your blog. I don't think you're horrible, just a little twisted...
I odn't know you and you crack me up.
if you quit blogging then I WOULD think you were a horrible person
Maybe the gods were be appeased if you sacrificed one of those bricks of cheese you have stashed. I hear Zeus is quite fond of cheese.
Mr. IQ MADE the Santa Claus trophy?? Impressive, but it does bring another question to mind....why?
I don't know you personally and I still don't think you're horrible. I find your writing is absolutely hilarious, it always keeps me coming back. :)
Venting is healthy!
I'll go off to appease the gods to get you your 'perfect' baby back. Just don't tell us when it happens. ;)
Oh gee Jill, I have no idea why. What can I say? Some gals get the guys who can build cool stuff to ward off thieves and some gals... don't. I guess one of us got lucky!
I can almost guarantee that this is not the work of Zeus. The mighty one is hurting for supplicants these days so it’s not likely he would piss off the few remaining mortals who will still give him the time of day. If you think you might have done something to make him mad, just leave a burger patty to burn on the grill at your next bar-b-que. That should do the trick. This sounds more like the work of Huitzilopochtli, Aztec god of war or maybe even Jehovah, that guy gets pissed off at just about everything. If it turns out that Jehovah is behind all of this, then you might want to learn the backstroke in preparation for swimming in a lake of fire for all eternity. Dang! This is not looking good for you at all.
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