Skrip - tyur' - i - ent: adj. Possessing the violent desire to write.


#114 In which our hero is tired.

Good lord, I am I zombie today. Macey is teething and none too happy about it. I don't remember Lily being this bad... Macey will go from sleeping soundly to a 110 dB scream of pure fury in the blink of an eye. I think I woke up once and actually said, "Jesus! What are you doing to her?!"

Bottom line, The Scientist and I aren't getting much sleep. And while that makes my lovely wife lethargic and out of it, not getting enough sleep turns me into a big grumpy dick.

So... I feel the need to post but can hardly construct a coherent sentence. What you get is a few snippets without any real theme... and don't give me any lip about it, jackass.

What you need to know to understand this conversation:
  1. A couple of days ago, in lieu of giving Lily a bath, The Scientist took her into the shower with her.
  2. Lily wanted to take some toys with her, including her Dora the Explorer tub toy.
  3. I find Dora's giant pumpkinhead disturbing.
I get out of the shower, and The Scientist notices that Dora is still in there, among other toys.
THE SCIENTIST: How did you enjoy your shower with Dora?
ME: It made me uncomfortable. She kept looking at my balls.
TS: Why'd you keep her face up?
ME: Well... I had to piss.

I've started playing DOOM with Lily (who is, of course, two years old). It doesn't appear to frighten her or make her nervous... actually, she often runs up to me and says, "Daddy, I wanna play scary-monster-game." Which means she wants to sit on my lap as I play. The Scientist worries that it will give her nightmares, but I think I'm just instilling good, solid self-defense skills for later in life. Remember, honey, always use your chaingun when facing cacodemons.

Ugh... that's all you get. I am exhausted. Here's some previous New Year's Eve memories.


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