Wednesday, December 21, 2011

My Face Is A Bowling Ball

"We're pretending to fall down on broken glass!"

My wife likes to cuddle in bed in the morning. I do not. Not because I'm a stereotypical man who can't open up and show his emotional side. No - it's because lying in bed leads to being jumped on repeatedly by two kids. I usually send my son back upstairs to wake his mother up first. If my daughter is up already I'll send her up too and walk up slowly afterwards. If she's still upstairs she'll be in that bed already and I'll lie down and cuddle her. My son will spend a little time with his mother. Then my daughter will start some weird lowest full-body hurdle over the both of them. She will do this until she gets it wrong and lands on them leading to my wife saying the redundant, "you know I don't like that." Not many people do like having a four year do an old elbow drop them.

If my son is in a good mood he'll start leaping around and copying his sister. Then they'll both start making up reasons for them doing it to make it more fun. Which is where my daughter got he weird, "we're jumping on broken glass!" comment from. If my son doesn't want to play around too my wife will have to command him not to try and pin her down and keep her to himself. I will usually attempt to play some sort of game with the kids. Usually involving hiding or tickling a little. Maybe even Timber! Whichever way that she is separated from my son she will quickly scooch over to me and try and get a cuddle in. Which is nice obviously - but I don't want one. Which was why I was hiding under the blankets for fear of being pelted by whatever weaponry my kids are currently holding. Because at that instant both my children view me as some sort of evil rapist. My daughter will try and pry us apart and squeeze herself slowly but surely into any tiny sliver of space between us. My son will just lie on the pair of us whining. He may grab my face like a bowling ball and try to drag me off his precious woman. My daughter will then announce that she is a Mommy Blanket so I will simply have to move otherwise that wouldn't be true, and I will have made her lie like the callous Mommy stealing bastard that I am.

If I or my wife don't move (and my wife has become quite adamant that she is going to show her children that Mommy and Daddy are allowed to cuddle) my son will start using elbows, pinches and licking to get me off. This morning he jabbed his feet into my groin and tried to use his freakish monkey-toes (my wife's genetic contribution to the family line) to literally rip off whatever they could grab. I swear the boy could knead bread with those feet. My wife proudly announced that maybe he'll grow up to be a grape farmer. So obviously I got up as soon as possible. My kids aren't old enough to follow through with an entire plan so forget that they were trying to get Mommy for themselves and think that all they were trying to do was eliminate the woman-touching pig and that's been achieved. Therefore they can get back to dancing and making cakes with pillows. Which is just a pile of pillows with a child in it.

This can continue in other places too. If my wife hugs me in the kitchen (seems to be where it happens most for some reason) one of the kids will immediately insert themselves between us crowbar us apart. They don't want to do any cuddling or hugging themselves - they just don't want us to do it. It's kind of weird. It's almost as if they are displaying their single most potent tool to maintain their standard of living. Which is to engage in a total zero tolerance toward any chance that Mommy and Daddy make more babies. If my kids knew the exact biological method to procreation I'm fairly certain I'd wake up one morning to find my son trying to a rip my willy off like a cartoon chicken tugging a worm out of the ground.

Which reminds me - my son has developed his first lie. That is whenever my wife (and only her) asks him to do something he doesn't want to, or attempts to put any kind of distance between them he'll say he needs to go to the toilet. He'll grab his own chicken-worm and say, "pee pee" a few times so that she'll pick him up and walk to the bathroom. At which point his real feelings about unnecessary bathroom visits will burst out of him and he'll start complaining that no, he doesn't have to go. He has never once done that with me. But in the hour (at best) that my wife is home in the morning he might chance it three or four times.

This morning I'm taking a break. My cold is at maximum ickyness. Which basically means that massive amounts of sticky ultra-green goo are camped at the very end of my very congested nose. It's that type where if you wipe your nose without a mirror you can never be sure if you've got it all out and are positive that everyone is going to be looking at you with massive green gross things oozing out of each nostril. The snot is at its thickest and my throat the sorest. My entire head hurts. My son has transcended the peak and has stopped leaking in as profligate a manner. My daughter has started sniffling and coughing. So it looks like she'll be next and might hit peak snot on Christmas Eve. My wife was just told that she's started sneezing - but she likely won't get sick.

I haven't used any meds except a decongestant which is failing feebly. I did look at options for a natural remedy that I could make for us all to have a go at. I assumed some sort of hard-core citrus facepack or something like that. Nope - everything I read suggested making what appears to be a cold onion soup that is low on water and high on onion juice. It sounds like the sort of thing that will stink the entire house - and us - out for weeks. Which was borne out by the recipes saying to drench the onions in an ENTIRE bag of sugar or bottle of honey to try and mask the onion smell/flavor. It also warns that you may vomit. I have a cold - I don't have scarlet fever. I think I'll pass on that.

Maybe I should go for another Irish coffee or two tonight and blow this puppy out though.

2 comments:

  1. Can't say I would enjoy a four-year-old trying to elbow drop me either... Hope your family gets healthy for Christmas!

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  2. Snot Level Update: My son and I are still gripped by evil sticky elastic snot. My wife's sniffles are stronger. My daughter is picking her wet nose furiously. Looks like a snotty Christmas for us.

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