Just like Taco Tuesday or Pizza Friday, this blog needs a themed day. And since I’m UncleF#*k-Up I get to declare a day and then promptly ignore or forget about it. Today’s grab bag starts with things going wrong in the kitchen.
Waking up early to prepare three breakfasts and three lunches when you’ve slept poorly is a good indicator of whether you’re a morning person or not. I am as good a morning person as a minotaur is a hat model. This morning I managed to pour grapefruit juice into my cereal. Undaunted, I added milk hoping for some kind of chemical neutralization. Since I drink pure white grapefruit juice, the kind that makes your hair stand on end and wakes you up better than a cold shower, my cereal tasted as if I were eating it from the bottom half of a car battery. Then I attempted to make toast—this, you think, should be simple. But our toaster has been making an angry buzzing noise recently, something unnerving from an appliance with no moving parts. It’s the kind of electrical noise you expect right before a tremendous bang and flash of light which leaves a charred crater on your counter where the toaster once was.
Next on the grab bag menu: dinner for Number Two. With toddlers you think you have a chance of keeping things clean. Bibs, wipe rags, brooms, mops, power washers, all mean nothing when you have a creature that can turn a small bowl of food into this:
There was a bib, ripped asunder during feeding time. There was a sippy cup of water, smeared with something sticky, filled with a backwash of floating particles making the whole thing look like a sample cup of krill, then the cup was hurled like a shot put across the room. His meal included baby food called “Country Dinner”. I’m not sure to which country it refers, nor how brown mush fits into the category of dinner. See how he laughs! See what disgrace he brings to his clothing! FEED ME!
Now the final grab bag Item of Randomness: golden hair. A phone picture doesn’t do justice to the incredible backlit effect of setting sunlight in my daughter’s hair. I can’t explain the stunned look except that I told her to stay still because her hair was on fire. What can I say, parenting is a gift that I returned for store credit.