Thursday, Oct, 17 2013
When my wife asks me, "Guess what happened at work today?" Instead of simply answering, "What?" ...I like to actually "guess" what happened by responding with oddities, like, “Oh no! Was your friend eaten by a giant, rabid kangaroo?
Sadly, the stories never involve a kangaroo or anything rabid, but even as she tells me the actual, true anecdote ....I continue generating the fantasy in my head ----- like a giant, mouth-foaming kangaroo busted down her office door and pounced on her co-worker and eats her. And what it can’t stuff in its mouth, it puts in pouch and hops away for a bedtime snack.
Then I’m usually rudely interrupted with the “Are you even listening to me” look from her concerned eyes…..so, I pause….and attempt to muster up something that I had grabbed from her story while I was daydreaming, but I still keep thinking about that damn Kangaroo. So, as far as I know, a giant rabid kangaroo DID wreak havoc somewhere…and is still lurking in the shadows behind its next victim. Some call it A.D.D., I call it “imagination.” :)
posted by: James Patrick 1 month ago
Friday, Sep, 27 2013
Is it just me or does it seem hard to believe that not only is September nearly finished, but more importantly....where the hell did summer go? Seriously. Did July and August get forgotten this year? I saw them on the calendar. I remember sweating. I got a tan. But they flew by like a pterodactyl chasing a unicorn.
Speaking of Unicorns. My six-year-old daughter has informed me that for Halloween this year that I "get to be" a unicorn. Sweet. My childhood dream of becoming a mythical horse with a horn will come to fruition. Can you imagine if I actually did as my daughter requested? I would love to see the reaction of my neighbors as they see at 6-foot, 200 pound man prancing up and down the street in a fantastic shimmering adult unicorn costume. Priceless.
After I was told what I will be for Halloween, my daughter, who is infactuated with princesses, My Little Pony, Barbie, etc, said to me, "And I'm gonna be a bloody zombie." She followed that up with, "and I'm gonna ride on your back when we trick-or-treat. You can hold my candy bag in your mouth. But dad, you can't walk on your legs, you have to walk like a unicorn and you can't talk."
I thought to myself, "Well, if that's the case, I'd rather not say anything to anyone on Halloween night." Because there would be no good explanation for what the neighborhood would be witnessing. They would just have to sit back with their candy dishes and think one of two things, or both: "Wow. What a great dad." Or "Wow. What a total lunatic."
I hope she lets me pick the color of my mane. I'll choose "Sparklelicious."