And the Hits

My good friend br is always wondering why I am always behind the eight ball financially. (I feel compelled to pause for a second while my GTF friends finish chocking on their bourbon and cokes, as I am probably the most well-off person they associate with on a regular basis, aside from ka, who is making bank off the internets). I am something of a financial wizard, having made, made $26 in the last quarter through my 401(k), so his befuddlement makes some sense, except that he forgets I am me (as you are he and we are all together).

In November, on Thanksgiving to be exact, my drain pipes backed up, sending used water into the sink, the dishwasher, and back out to the drain pipe for the dishwasher. $150.

December brought the Christmas season and giftal obligations all around. Plus my cell phone broke and I impulse bought a $300 phone, which is my own stupidity.

January saw my dishwasher stop working. $150.

February has started off with a bang with my sewer pipes backing up into my and my neighbor's yard. Again. So far it has cost me $160 for the pipe snaking and $100 for the sanitation clean up. We'll see what else comes my way through this. I have a feeling there's a retaining wall build in my future.

This is all aside from having a (almost) teenager in the house. br has a couple of young ones and he seems to believe they are expensive. Wait until they need a flute. Wait until they step on that flute and need it fixed right away. You don't budget for flute repair my friend. Or cello repair, for that matter. They don't stop needing clothes nor health care, but do need phones. And fish. And fish tanks, and heaters, and power strips, and well you get the drift.

These are the parts of life that I do not enjoy. Which makes all of you fine people all that more treasured.

Plus, on rare occasions, your daughter goes and draws you a gnome holding a flaming sword while riding a twonicorn. Which is nice.

Bard Fest...

kicks ass!

Amber has a lead role in Comedy of Errors - by William Shakespeare (that's right, Shakespeare) - and she was amazingly good. Like, one of three people in the entire play that was not speed-saying her lines, but actually acting with facial expressions and gestures and everything.

Even though most of the kids bit, I'm still processing that a seventh grade class was able to work up a full Shakespeare play and put it on so that a decent portion of the plot was intelligible. I don't really remember seventh grade (good times, good times), but I dare say that we weren't putting on Shakespeare.

Post-play I suggested that she thinking about acting, she was so good. She replied that she didn't think so, as acting seemed like a lot of work.

Always my daughter, that Amber.

Showing Those Frogs a Thing or Two

This is how I torture my daughter, because I love her:

Dear Swimming Teacher,

Amber has been sick the past few days, so please excuse her from swimming if she doesn't feel up to it. Although she should try, as she'll never swim the English Channel if she doesn't start practicing now.

Sincerely,

David M. C----, Esq.

Lil' Baby AB

So Amber asks me the other day, "Can you inherit weirdness?"
To which I reply, "Do you mean is 'weirdness' genetic?"
She says, "Yeah, is it in your genes?"
I say, "No. I think it's environment on that one."
Amber again, "You mean it's, like, learned."
As I was saying "yeah," she kind of realized that she's fucked both ways.

She was cleaning the racks to the oven and when she was done she asks me if she should just put them back in the oven. I said, "Sure, what else would you do with them?" She says, "Well I didn't know. I thought they might cause a fire or something as they dry."

Amber let's me know she hates the new floor.
"I hate the new floor," she says. "It's too slick."
"Slicker than what?" I ask.
"Slicker than everybody else's floor," she relates.
I ask, "How would you know? Do you go over to your friends' houses and stand around admiring their floors?"
"No," she says, " I look at their silverware and ovens, but not the floors."