Random Stuff

Things Our Daughter Has Said:

Last week at daycare:
Woman dropping off her son "Well, aren't you just the little princess!"
Riley "I not a princess, I Riley."

Driving to a friends house:
Riley "Daddy, what that?"
Me "That's a hill."
Riley "Why?" (yes, we are deep into the "why" phase.)
Me "What do you think?"
Riley "Because why not." (yes, I've answered "why not" a few times to her why questions)



Riley "Daddy? What that?" [while patting the front of my pants]
Me "Don't touch daddy there."
Riley "Why?"
Me "That's my penis, you don't touch daddy there."
Riley "Yuck, poopie"
Me "That's not poop! Poop is around back."
Riley "No, poopie, Daddy."
(Yes, honey.  You just keep thinking that for the next twenty years or so.)


Hoosier Weddings:

Last weekend we had the privilege of being invited to the wedding for one of  Robbie's friends.  The wedding was held in a small rural town over an hour away.  The church is a newer building and doesn't have the traditional pews.  Instead, the congregation opted for interlocking chairs for what I assumed was flexible seating.  Right before the ceremony I realized that the contrasting lines of carpeting outlined a basketball court.  The church can remove the chairs, place portable basketball goals on either side of the sanctuary and turn it into a regulation size court.  It's been said  that basketball is the state religion of Indiana.  I don't think you need to look much further to find the truth of that statement.


Commute This
 (warning - rant ahead)

A little over a year ago I switched jobs.  I went from working retail and the inconvenient hours - weekends, nights and holidays -  to a Monday through Friday job.  The downside is that I went from having a five minute commute to a thirty five minute one.  I like driving.  However, I hate commuting.  I'm lucky to start work  an hour earlier than normal so that I could leave before rush hour hits.  Now I'll admit that rush hour in Indianapolis is nothing compared to Chicago, but I rarely drove in Chicago.  The big reason I hate commuting is that I have to drive through two construction zones on my way to work.  This wouldn't be a problem except for the zone on the West side.  There are four entrance ramps onto I-465 in the middle of that construction and somehow on a nearly weekly basis I've had to deal with people who don't seem to grasp the concept of merging.  The last one was a woman who was well ahead of me on the acceleration ramp.  For some reason she began to slow down and I made the mistake of slowing so that she could merge over.  Big mistake.  Traffic was heavy to my left and by the time she finally merged, we were doing fifteen miles and hour!  I was livid.  If you can't navigate traffic on the freeway, then don't get on it! 

My iPod is Trying to Make Me Insane

I listen to my iPod at work for two reasons:  One, it keeps me from hearing the monologue of a redneck's life from the woman in the department next to mine.  Two, if I listen to audio books or movies (we can listen to movies, we just can't watch them) then I lose track of what I'm working on.  While I can't say what it is that I do, I can say that it is one of the most tedious things I've ever done in my life - and I worked in a plastics factory one summer.

A few weeks ago ABBA's "Gold" was playing on my iPod.  "Waterloo" finished playing and then it went into "Honey, Honey".  Around thirty seconds or so into the song I realized I was no longer listening to "Gold" but instead was hearing the beginning of the soundtrack of "Mamma Mia!", the movie version.  There were several songs after "Honey, Honey" that I skipped.  There's only so much ABBA you can listen to in one sitting. 

In answer to your questions, I have ABBA "Gold" for the simple reason that I like it.  Name me one person who doesn't sing along when they hear "Waterloo", "Mama Mia" or "Dancing Queen" and you've found someone who hasn't listened to a radio or movie soundtrack in the last thirty years.  Either that or they're a big fat liar. 

The movie soundtrack for "Mamma Mia!" is a different story.  Over a year ago, I purchased the movie since all of our friends were raving about it.  We had seen the stage production and really liked it.  Three things about the movie versus the stage version:  Meryl Streep is an awful actress.  She over-acts way beyond belief which can sort of be excused once I found out that the three women who created the stage production were the ones responsible for the movie.  Pierce Brosnan makes my ears bleed everytime I hear him sing, which is the kindest thing I can say.  Understand that I've had a "crush" on him since he appeared in "The Manions of America" on TV in the 1981.  He just should not be allowed to sing.  And last the scenery is absolutely gorgeous.  We have found though that the more we watch the movie the easier it is to bear.  Plus Riley really gets into it which means that we have watched it dozens of times.

That's how I ended up with the movie soundtrack.  We thought it might be better for Riley to hear that version in the car since she is so familiar with the movie.  (There are songs in the movie that are not on "Gold".)  Big mistake.  Take away the dialogue, the scenery and the other actors and you get the stripped down version of how awful Brosnan and Streep as singers truly are.  For the most part Streep is a capable singer.  But I also think she's performing like she's doing musical theater and trying to emote every single word to the back row.

As to how it got on my iPod, I downloaded the soundtrack to my play list before listening to it.  The first time I heard it was the next morning at work.  I sent Robbie a text message saying how bad it was and he replied the he knew.  He and Riley had listened to it on the way to daycare.  A month or so later I'm still fast forwarding past anything that Brosnan is singing on... and hoping that the two albums never play back to back again.

Making Whoopee

So our daughter has developed quite the sense of humor. What? Not the opening sentence you expected from the title?  It will make perfect sense in just a moment.  But back to the daughter and her sense of humor.  She always has made us laugh and seems to find a lot of things funny.  Plus she still thinks I'm the funniest person in the world.  I practice some of my best material on her and she's the best audience a dad could ask for.

Last week though, she took things to a completely different level.  It was just her and I for the evening as Robbie had a "work function" although I'm not sure how much work was done at the Rathskeller's "Welcome to the Neighborhood" event thrown for his place of business.  But daughter and I were playing around when she says "Hold on Daddy, go potty."  She took off down the hall and I asked if she needed help and she said nope.  A few minutes went by and she finally came out of the bathroom, rubbing her butt while going "ow" over and over.  I her what was wrong and she needed medicine.  I asked what was wrong and she said "My butt's cracked."  Seriously.  The girl looked at me deadpan and said "My butt's cracked" in the most pitiful voice you've ever heard.  Then she started laughing.  Not just a giggle but a full blown, out of control, falling on the floor, belly laugh! She was laughing so hard she was having trouble breathing.  That of course got me to laughing almost as hard.  I'd just been punked by my three year old!

I will admit that I may have created our little Borscht belt comic.  I did start the whole "butt crack" joke with her.  When she was still in diapers or pull-ups she'd develop a rash every once in a while and complain about being sore.  I'd always look and say "It should be sore, you have a big crack in your butt."  After several times of this routine, she'd started laughing and say "Daddy!" like I was just the silliest person ever.  It was indeed a very proud moment for me when she was able to turn the joke around on me.  And believe me, I'm very proud to share with anyone who will listen.

Last Friday was the best of the humor so far.  I was buying some new jeans and while waiting in line I noticed that they had whoopee cushions on sale. (Ah, so that's where the title came from!)  I just had to buy one.  We went to pick her up from daycare but not before slipping the cushion under the cushion on her car seat.  Robbie put her in her seat and wouldn't you know but she's still so light that it didn't do anything.  Robbie then made sure she was in the seat better and pushed down and set off the whoopee cushion.  Daughter's eyes got really wide, a grin started on her face.  Then the laughing started.  I thought she was going to wet herself and swore that it wasn't her!  I said "But I heard you!  I can't believe you farted in my car!"  Lord!  The laughter didn't stop until we were almost home.  It's amazing what a $1 piece of latex can do.

Oh, I almost forgot.  When I told the cracked butt story to Robbie the following day he just shook his head and said "Great.  Now I have two of them in the house."  Yup.  I'm one proud daddy.  Now I just have to teach her that there's a time a place for that humor. I just know it's going to result with at least one or two calls from school.  And I'll take full responsibility for it.  But not until after I teach her about armpit farts.