Space Station!

I was up late last night with the kids, waiting for the International Space Station to fly overhead. The kids were tearing around on the front lawn with the neighbour kids, I was peering skyward, scanning.

It's a fun activity and one which will (I hope) instill a sense of wonder in my kids. Or a sense of complete futility at how small we are in the overall scheme of things so why bother? We'll see.

As the allotted time approached, my son and I set up our imaginary missile batteries and assorted anti-aircraft laser blasters, since our avowed intention was to shoot down the space station, shortly after saying "Wow - look at that."

We missed, thank goodness.

We did say "Wow" though when we saw it flying overhead.

Canadian on board too you know. Yay!!

Dear Julie Payette - Canadian astronaut.

Sorry we keep trying to shoot you down. It's just one of those things kids have to do. I don't think our imaginary laser blasters or missile launchers will ever reach you, but if they should we just want you to know we'll feel bad. We wouldn't blow you up or anything, we'd just try and burn our initials into the side of the capsule maybe. Hope you don't mind.

Love,

Your friends on the ground. Shooting at you.

Farkles Go Camping!

To prove that we actually ventured out of doors and into the semi-wilderness, here are pictures to prove it! I always forget to post pics - so here you go.

First pic is of me and the kids at ramming speed, with Mom (picture taker) about to get hurled overboard by impact.

In our second photo we have The Family on the dock shortly before discovering weakened boards and coolish water temperature.

Not visible are the swarms of mosquitoes that later carried off one of the children.

Which on First?

So what goes on first when you are in the woods - sun screen or bug spray?

I went back and forth on this matter in a complete dither until the bugs just got bored and went home I think.

Actually, I wound up slathering my magnificent body in hand lotion by mistake. It worked but in round-about fashion. As the little critters were jabbing me with their tiny beaks, the heat from my sun-seared flesh would cause them to burst into flames. Now, instead of bites, I have tiny, raised welts from the small burns inflicted on my person. So that worked just fine, and I'm glad I thought of it.

Bug spray also works, except for the bits you miss. In this fashion I became light headed from blood loss as the skeeters zoomed into the small portion of my ankle that did not get fumigated properly. Word spread in the bug community, such that my ankle became like a drive-thru blood emporium.

Business must have been quite brisk. My swollen ankle now makes me look like I am wearing a watermelon for a slipper.

Camping

We went camping (well, cabin-ing) over the weekend, and I am just now getting released from the smoke inhalation ward. I also stink to high heaven. We had a ball!

We always enjoy suspending all personal hygiene activities when in the great outdoors, expecially when you realize the occupant has more flies circling around than the outhouse itself does.

I also lost count of the burning embers landing upon me and creating new holes in my clothing (and flesh) as I stirred the coals in manly fashion.

These and many other amusing topics will be thoroughly explored in upcoming columns.

For now though - shower!!

Family Physician

Case #1 – Twin eight-year old patients (boy/girl) presented in overall good spirits but with numerous layers of dirt encrusted about their bodies, alarming smells, faces covered with crumbs and melted substance (preliminary identification: unauthorized chocolate of some form, possibly Fudgsicle, possibly chocolate cake – detailed lab report to follow).

Completed brief physical exam, interrogation and took complete history. Eyewitness account is patients were quietly drawing pictures when they fell in mud bog and happened upon chocolate cake.

Prescribed immediate bath, teeth brushing and bed rest. Medicinal smack administered to cute bare behinds as giggling patients scuttled to tub. Medicinal story reading on big Mom and Dad bed also prescribed. Complete recovery. Case closed.

Case #2 - Patient presented gushing red fluid from major artery. Other symptoms include odd noises and smells emanating from patients hind quarters. Patient is 12 year old, 4-door sedan with transmission thrombosis and other irregularities. Barely ambulatory, patient squirted fluid all way to ER clinic where emergency surgery commenced.

Discharge of patient expected today with a full recovery anticipated. Note: this patient is not covered by universal health care. A plea of poverty will be issued to attending emergency physicians, hoping for leniency. None anticipated. Case (hopefully) closed.

Case #3 - Patient presented with wet eyes and oozing, shallow knee trauma (lab identifies as ‘scrape’), approximately 1 inch in diameter (patient described injury as “My whole leg!”). Granulated road material present in wound, gently cleaned via water from squirt gun, soapy cloth, (formerly) clean towel. Cause of injury described as ‘riding bike with no hands.’ Patient counseled with questioning eyebrow, lesson learned with no post-traumatic lecturing required.

Amputation of limb considered, discussed. Patient insisted on Spiderman bandage in lieu of amputation. Pain medication declined by brave patient (bravery level 6/10 noted for record).

Bandaging of patient proceeded without incident, smile returning to face immediately upon application of sterile tissue to wet cheeks, kiss upon general region of wound. Physical therapy consisting of ‘Mario Cart’ racing using Wii instrumentation prescribed for one half hour per day for one week, no cheating or beating up sister. Case closed.

Case #4 - Patient presented experiencing considerable trauma in the head, neck and abdomen region. Symptoms included missing eye, partial disembowelment, fang marks, extreme wetness preliminarily identified as dog slobber (see lab toxicology report). Patient described as “Tiger” and “Favourite Stuffy” by traumatized relative of patient. Source of trauma described as canine discovering cheese substance from dinner table smeared over stuffy, with subsequent frenzied attack upon said stuffy by said canine. Law enforcement note: charges of ‘Bad Dog!’ pending.

Despite best efforts of ER team, patient succumbed to injuries. Distraught relative, who brought patient to ER in first place, dismisses death with a shrug and “Oh well” response and continues playing with remaining 67 stuffies in bedroom.

Patient returned to assailant via ‘corpse tossing’ technique and ‘pulling dog around slippery floor by her teeth’ technique. Case closed.

Case #5 – patient presented showing localized swelling in several areas of body. Preliminary diagnosis: skeeter bites.

Immediate immobilization upon couch prescribed, with attending physician administering small dose of medicine (Witch Hazel) (actually water poured into empty Witch Hazel bottle since supply was exhausted) via medicinal cotton ball. Immediate cessation of itchiness results. Patient confirms belief that attending physician is the best Doctor in the Whole Wide World.

Case closed via loud, smacky kisses.

Physician smiles. Just another day at the office.

Ah yes - posting

Sorry I haven't posted for a while.

I have been trying to figure out why, when I miscount the stairs, I fall down or at least stumble.

I don't know why I always count the stairs anyway, but for idiotic reasons known only to my subconscious, I lose count. I'll go "3,4, 6 CRASH!" It is deeply embarrassing to not only lose count (not that I tell anyone), but fall up the stairs as well.

I think I'll establish a foundation to look into this phenomenon. We'll call it FUTS Syndrome - Falling Up The Stairs. Science will find an answer! To something!

You're right - I am tired, and so to bed.

Tracking...

Since I changed my layout the other day I've been unable to record analytics information - which I love! I think it's neat to see where visitors are from, how many people visit the site and so on.

I'm trying to fix the problem, but if you wouldn't mind, throw me an email if you've visited lately. Contact me at funnycolumn@gmail.com if you're so inclined - otherwise I don't know if you've been here or not. Hmmm - that didn't make much sense but you know what I mean.

Thanks again for reading.

Lucy

So Lucy is our dog. A ten year old Golden Retriever. She's been a great dog, wonderful with the kids, never a problem. Until lately.

Lately,perhaps because my wife is back at work full time, she has been acting up when we aren't around. She digs into garbage cans in the bathrooms and pulls out all the used (yuck!) kleenex and spits them out on the floor.

She has also been getting into food lately.

By that I mean swiping stuff off of plates, out of cupboards and so on.

By these methods she has consumed in the past month:

A number of brass BBQ brush bristles, the x-ray of which showed them in a nice ball being slowly transported through her system. We think they have passed, but did not find any evidence of them for sure. I don't want to go squishing through her poops to find out either. Can you imagine what it would feel like to poop out a bunch of brass brush bristles?? I mean - can you? Sheesh - I'm shakin all over just thinking about it...

She has also eaten 4 hamburger buns (with butter) which were on a plate on the counter, ready for me to finish cooking the burgers.

Tonight she ate the better part of 2 Ivory soap bars. The big ones from Costco too. Hmmm - this should make for an interesting barf later tonight I figure. Or an equally interesting poo tomorrow. I'll let you know. Maybe I'll take pictures!!

Stay tuned.

Couple Therapy

Our kids were both out of the house on sleepovers, so my wife and I did what any other healthy, normal couple would do under such circumstances. We went for a nice dinner, a beautiful stroll along the beach, and then we went home and enjoyed some wild, unprotected swearing.

You can only go so long without a little profanity. It was great. We cursed and yelled with complete abandon.

It was invigorating and wonderful in all respects.

Having kids around all the time makes it easy to lose touch with your bad words. It’s hard to make time in your day for just you and your spouse, and your salty vocabulary. It’s important you reserve some good fulmination time for each other.

We couldn’t help ourselves and got started swearing right there in the van after our walk because we never get to in front of the kids. When we got home we carried on like teenagers, doing ‘it’ on the stairs, in the kitchen, the living room, and of course, our bedroom. Bathroom too.

We used some of the verbs and nouns and adjectives we learned before we were married. We even referred to some books and the Scrabble game to, you know, spice things up a little.

Logging into the internet, we watched a few of ‘those’ types of videos. Yeah - George Carlin. Chris Rock. It was wild.

We held nothing back from each other.

We became as one.

Our pleasure was all the more invigorating in that we did ‘it’ really loudly. With no kids to disturb we went a little crazy. I remember yelling up the stairs “HONEY DID YOU LET THE *$%#@!% DOG OUT?” It felt so…free.

We even had a few drinks to sort of lubricate things.

No need to ‘do it’ behind closed doors or in hushed whispers. No hints or semi-spelled out words like we usually do in front of the kids. This was pure, wild foul-mouthing of the best sort.

We deliberately stubbed our toes and jumped around, cursing. No words barred. We cussed and yelled until we were spent. Then we lay back, exhausted, smiles on our faces, sated.

I’m sure a psychologist would say that a good swear session does wonders for one’s health. What couples need is some good, down to earth ear-burning, awe-inspiring, incredible-word-combination cussing to clear out the cobwebs. Avoiding the curse words you would LIKE to use about neighbours, co-workers and bosses is too stressful.

Oh sure, the occasional road rage episode is helpful, as is muttering imprecations at the drive-through when they mess up your order, but these are ultimately hollow and unfulfilling.

So unlock your inner self and unleash your most colourful cusses! Be free! Get rid of the kids and let fly. It works! It feels good! It’s probably good for the economy!

If cursing doesn’t work, have some cookie-dough ice cream. That’s another good stress reliever.

Growing Pains

I’ve been meaning to log some of the old growth weeds out in the side yard, and being male I welcome any excuse to fire up the chain saw.

I also haven’t seen the kids for a few days, and their machetes are missing, so I figure I better go have a look.

Which brings me to the actual topic of today’s column – “Failure to Thrive,” or “Gardening” as some people call it.

All weed evidence to the contrary, I find myself growing rather fond of the pastime. I’m also rather fond of my kidneys and the intriguing mole between my toes too mind you, but this is different somehow. I can actually see a long term relationship growing here (ha!) and I have some control over it, so I enjoy it. I have not yet been able to grow another kidney.

I’m also not at the stage where I know the Latin names for everything (well, anything) yet. The people who can do that (Obnoxium insufferabilia) have also been known to snort pure, uncut Miracle-Gro up their noses, so you have to be careful about who you garden with.

I just think its fun planting stuff and tending it, and by “tending” I mean “squirting water onto its general region.”

For some reason, my wife believes watering constitutes ‘Yard Work’ so I am not about to disabuse her of this notion any time soon. Watering is what I do. Gentlemen take note.

Watering is also good in that I get to practice my aerial gunnery on flying moths and other insects, who rarely know what hits them as I dive out of the sun, water guns blazing, engine shrieking as my Battle of Britain Squirtfire claims yet another victory!

Yes. Well…

There have been other moments of joy scattered amongst my many hours of bewilderment out there.

For example, the other day I was once again staring down at the Alien Infestation thing (Buttuglia thinkitsaweeden) and noticed for the first time that it was actually kind of pretty.

The Alien Infestation is an odd looking plant with tentacles and scales and it is really quite hideous. It looks like what might burst out of your chest after you’ve been impregnated by something obviously not of this world.

Every time I approach it with malice aforethought, my wife intercepts me and assures me that it is, in fact, a plant and not some disgusting Weed From Beyond.

She then replaces my hat (removed for a good Scratch and Ponder), steers me gently towards the overgrown side yard, and watches me mutter my way towards the day’s weed harvest.

Then there were some seeds the kids and I planted. We bought little envelopes (Packetphotoshoppia notactualsizeums yourresultsmayvaryens), actually read the instructions on the side, and did as we were told for a change.

The little pots were watered daily for many, many, many weeks.

We finally decided growthing or spurting or whatever was not going to happen, so we tilled the little cups of soil and seeds into the dirt beside one of the pathways in the yard. Where of course a single plant emerged, looking rather feisty, branches on hips, as if to say “Why didn’t you plant me here in the first place, Bozo?”

Lately though, despite all of my attention to this plant, it is thriving. Which I find quite annoying since I haven’t a clue what I am doing to produce such a result.

Now that I think about it, this perpetual state of cluelessness is reminding me too much of my real job. I may have to change occupations.