At the risk of sounding like the pessimist that I am... I know that just because we have reason to celebrate today, does not mean that things will not be difficult tomorrow. But please, give us today to celebrate.

The Zweebles new thing is to make us watch tv shows tat he then creates for us. Basically he'll come up and say, "you have to watch a tv show (either called or about) x"

Tonight while he was in the bath, the Boy was playing with his new bathtub toys, the frogs (Floaty, squishy, frogs.) He tells me, "Frogs don't have bodies. They don't have heads or butts or legs." "Oh" I say, "ok."

Z then tells me I have to watch a tv show. "Ok" I say, again.

The show starts with Z speaking in this seussian language where he's making up words that rhyme. He then lines up all of the frogs on the edge of the tub, grabs the one in the center, has it lean over to the one on the right and makes it speak in a very low whisper, "We don't have bodies."

When we got back from vacation, The Lovely Wife posted a pic of me. Wow. It's the first time that I really looked at meyself and though, "OMG ! I'm fat!"

So, here's the game plan. No buying Magic cards for me until I get out on the bike both days this weekend. Then NO MORE MAGIC CARDS until I loose 10lbs. That's right 10lbs.

You can't believe how much the "no more Magic Cards" rule is driving me crazy. I knew I was a geek, but I didn't know I was that bad.

I've changed adjusted my diet. I say adjusted because changing my diet never works. Ever. But I'm cutting out beef jerky/beef sticks until I see progress. Those things are really bad for my health anyway. I've also cut out soda, as much as possible. Today i was bad and had a can of Coke and a bottle of Dr. Pepper. But that's because I had Hamburgers, and I'm sorry, pizza & hamburgers have to be accompanied by soda. I'm pretty sure there's a law somewhere. I'll cut down on the pizza and burgers, but seriously one of the joys of life is cold pizza in the morning. I've also recently discovered how much I enjoy a hamburger in the morning. So, no I won't be taking those away completely, but I will be trying to limit them.

The for suck part though, is the fiber. Yep. I feel like an old geezer when I type this out, but I'm going to start putting more fiber in my diet. The hard way. Drinking that crap in a sludgy mess. Sucks, but I did it for a while and I can probably do it again.

So, here's to 10lbs.
Sunday, the weigh in.

Mr. President,
I'm really not a fan of starting out a correspondence by telling you how little I take notice or even action of politics in general. Unfortunately, however that is the case. Imaging how passionately I must feel to sit down and write an email to you.

While it should gain me no favor to tell you that I did vote for you. I did. I did not vote for you because I thought you were the right man for the job, but because I thought you were the better of the two.

I would now like you to prove to me that you are the better, and the true leader of the country in our time of environmental crisis.

After reading an article in Rolling Stone Magazine (and posting it to my Facebook page -- it's a very powerful article sir http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/17390/111965?RS_show_page=0 ) I decided to take action. Small action, simply an email (which I will also post to my Facebook page and email a copy to my friends) asking you, that is the facts about the BP Atlantis Oil Rig in the article by Rolling Stone Magazine are true, please shut it down. Be the commanding leader that you have presented yourself as, and make the strong, the right, decision. Ask BP to stop deepwater drilling using the Atlantis Oil Rig. 

Thank you for your time, Mr. President.
Raymond Scott Davis

It's pretty cool to sit across the table from your kid while you are both painting. It's even more cool when you realize that he is trying to sing We Will Rock You.

Speaking of painting... No matter how swimmingly things start out (Wow he not really spilling any paint) they will devolve and end poorly.
(No I don't really know why I let him paint on his table in the front room, but fortunately there are only a few small dots of paint on the carpet. That's because I decided to clean the couch first.)

When it comes to the Potty Training Game of Chicken, I am always going to loose. Always. (For some reason I think changing a dirty diaper is better than changing a boy who has pooped in his underwear.)

Popcorn. ALWAYS A HIT.

The finale pissed me off. Well, not until The Lovely Wife set me straight on the timeline of events.

I'm pretty sure that I get what it was trying to say. You can get redemption in life, but the real reward is after you die. Wonderful. For me though, death is not a satisfying ending. It's just not. even with everyone getting to be happy and with the people they deserve, you're still dead.

I knew I wasn't going to get all the answers that I wanted, I expected it. I really did. However, I didn't want hints at larger mysteries right before the show ended, AND not get the answers. Where's the justice payoff in that?

And, I'm sorry a big cork? really? Really? That was better left to the broken wine bottle.

So the great Water Heater Disaster 2010 is over. I learned a few things. And I feel kind of bad. When Laura Price (The Lovely Wife) called and told me that the plumber came to the door, drenched in sweat, looking like he was going to pass out, and let her know that he wasn't done, he just needed to go get something to eat, I kind of felt good about it. It meant that no I probably couldn't have done it myself. (Is that mean of me? I mean it's not like the guy died, he just looked like he was going to pass out.) I'm still thinking of going home "Sick" so I can shower.

I find it odd that I know, know The Zweeble is going to be fine at Pre School. But why do I think he's not going to be ok? Am I going to be like this for the rest of his life?

So I had the boy with me today for the last few hours at work. We were passing out the commercial logs for the stations. We walked into one and All Night Long by Lionel Richie was playing. The Zweeble asks me, "What kind of music is this?" 
"It's Lionel Richie."
"What *kind* of music is this?"
I reply, "It's CRAP!"
"*Crap?!*"

We walk into another station, this one actually manned. And I tell Zweeb, "Tell xxx wha we learned today."
The Zweeble kind of gets shy.

I prompt, "Lionel Richie is..."

"CRAP!"

 

Sunday afternoon I put the spare on The Lovely Wife's car since she had picked up a nail in the back passenger side tire. I had the boy in the garage with me because he might actually be interested in some of it. He was.
 Our house was built on a little man made hill. While I have a two car garage, only one car can fit in it, so I had the wife's car in the garage and mine parked right up by the garage door.

He was enjoying himself. I was showing him how all the tools worked, letting him help with the jack, and when he got bored he went and played. Every once in a while he'd come back to see how it was going. I got the tire off and rested it against the front bumper of my car. I noticedThe Zweeble playing in that general area, but didn't think anything of it. Then out of the corner of my eye I noticed movement. the tire is rolling down the driveway and out into the street. I went to go get the tire. No really point in yelling at the boy. Lug the tire back up into the driveway and lay it flat on the ground. I go back over to working on the car.

The boy goes over to the tire. I hear him try to pick it up. It's funny he actually makes a little straining noire when he wants you to notice that he's trying to do something that's not working out for him. I hear it once. I hear it twice. Then I hear, "Dad can I have that thing?"
"What thing?"
"The jack."
"NO! ... Good thinking, but NO!"