Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Underpants Fairy and The Gusset Gnomes

JUNE 4, 2011

Yesterday I told my daughter that her Mommy and Daddy would like to give her a fantastic gift - no debts!! If we pay our house loan at the current rate we will own it in two years. We only have the one car payment and that will be all paid up by then too. Actually we could pay that off now but we don't need to. I was excited by this as it gives my family a security I didn't have as a kid. My daughter smiled and ran around cheering. She seemed to genuinely like hearing that, "you will own this whole thing - nobody else will!"

Thirty minutes later she told me I wasn't allowed in her house. When my wife got home she told her, "Daddy gave me this house Mommy!!" Which I kind of did but not really. Then this morning she got annoyed when I told her off for being careless with a drink and retorted that because the drink is in her house she can do what she likes with it. And not in a mean way either - in a genuinely confused, "but it's my stuff and I get to use it how I want to" kind of way. That wonderful piece of news seems to have backfired somewhat.

On a personal level that's a really nice feeling. We moved back to the US to be near the in-laws, have the kids grow up with all the opportunities they could have here that were not available in Bristol, and because we would never be able to afford a house in the UK. And we picked around here because it's near the in-laws. And because the two jobs that I KNEW I had landed in Buffalo, NY and Burlington, VT fell through. We just ended up in upstate NY. And we picked this area for the school district. If I could have my way I'd move to Canada in a heartbeat. But my wife isn't interested. At all. Canada is all alone in the industrialized world having not faced a single bank failure since everything went to shit economically. There have been no calls for bailouts or government intervention in the financial or mortgage sectors there. That's very appealing to me. The culture is different there too. I feel much more affinity to it and I've never even lived there. I just read the news and watch Rick Mercer online religiously. Give me the chance and I'd be in Toronto or Quebec City by the end of the day. Oh, and best of all Canada is littered with Tim Hortons donut shops and big chesty women with French accents. And while I do understand that quite a large number of the busty women in Montreal are actually drag queens, it's a proven fact that in the US a larger proportion of men have bigger tits. Add that this place has Dunkin' Donuts (coffee made from earwax and ferret droppings), women dressed in clothing from 1983 and people with very poor dentistry. People around here say things like "It don't work cause it's broke." If I moved to Quebec we'd all speak French. You can't sound dumb speaking French. Yet here my kids will sound like upstate New Yorkers. Which is not appealing. In my last job I would often hear allegedly articulate people say things like -:

"I don't got that" and "I don't got none."
"Is there people in the room?"
"I seen it."

Shudder.

On the other hand, whilst Canadians claim to be a peaceful people, more Canadians are murdered in Canada than in any other country. FACT.

Today I also had to explain smoking to my daughter. A man was outside the grocery store puffing away. I gave it the whole, "it's evil and dumb" routine. Which was hard considering I smoked 30 a day from when I was about fifteen until I was in my second year of university. There have been a handful of relapses but then it was only recreational. I do genuinely now think it's both evil and stupid. I think she got that it was stupid more than it being disgusting. She hated the smell more than anything. I also tried to explain chewing tobacco to her. And that people hilariously think it is cool. Especially around here it seems. When I first visited Old Forge NY ten years ago a bunch of teenagers pulled up to the ice cream stand where were relaxing one summer. About six teenagers bundled out and started making hilarious gang signs to a Cypress Hill song they were booming out of the car. A whiter group of kids you are less likely to see. Whilst getting a root beer float and offering one of the kids some advice ("remember, when the shit goes down, you better be ready...") I noticed that all of them had one swollen gerbil cheek and they were hacking up brown liquid. My wife informed me that, "cool kids chew tobacco." Fast forward to now and I still know people who go on and on about "dipping chew" being cool. These tend to be people that have never smoked weed so this really dois their barometer for coolness. And by cool I mean adults who say ridiculous things like, "oh...I only dip when I'm doing yard work. It gives you such a cool buzz." These are guys who stay in really good shape and go on about the gym constantly. Yet they see this as awesomeness personified. The bemusing thing is that a lot of my coworkers that do this think it is seen as sexy and will get them girls. But not my girl I can assure you of that. Because we're moving to Canada. Somehow....

Crap - she'll end up with some Quebecois bloke huffing Gitanes blathering on about art and cheese. Actually that sounds alright.

Lastly I took my daughter out to get new underwear today. We got an absurd number. She's almost too big for the old ones and considering she ALWAYS strips down to her knickers for when my wife gets home (I have no idea why) she can at least do it in nice shiny new ones. We actually just bought my son 20 pairs of his own. Because it is toilet-time either this week or next. My daughter swears blind that the "underpants fairy" came to our house. Judging by my sons obsession with his sister's new knickers I'm inclined to think that he may actually be the Underpants Fairy. I'm also hoping he doesn't suffer from the same affliction I seem to suffer from. For some strange reason every pair of underwear I own ends up with massive numbers of holes all around the crotch area. It's ridiculous - they look like they're twenty years old. The conclusion I came to years ago is that my testicles are so sexually exciting that my underwear could not simply handle being that close to them for long periods of time. I pointed this out to my wife, and after she stopped laughing she said it was probably something else. There are only a few things I can think of to explain this -:

a) I have the roughest cheese-grater testicles of any man on Earth.
b) I've been infested with some strange rare underpants-moth that munches my knickers.
c) Sabotage.

I'm being serious. Every pair I own look like Swiss cheese. Really though - buying new ones is getting old. My wife wants to know who is eating my underwear. She's getting suspicious - but in a weird way. Like maybe I have hired some sort of crotch-gnome from Craigslist. But maybe I'm looking at this whole thing in the wrong way. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade and all that. Some women pay all kinds of money for those fancy sponges and scrub things to scour their face with. I could hire myself out to fancy spas offering a quick scour followed by a moisturizing treatment. I could call myself "Bollocks for Beauty". My State Fair booth would be quite a sight, I can tell you that.

Okay - time to make even more salami sandwiches.

Daily Dump - Cream Soda

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