Tag: humor

Just an average evening in the life of budding geniuses

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

“How long were you under there?”

It was cat herding time once again at the Potts household also known as the half hour before bedtime. I was attempted to get a few last-minute chores in while simultaneously getting the boys ready for nighttime. I ignored Kiddo’s question, focusing instead on the task at hand.

“How long were you under there?” Kiddo repeated.

Kiddo’s voice broke through my concentration. What an odd question, I thought. I hadn’t been under anything that I could recall that evening unless you take into consideration pending deadlines, a cycle of never-ending dish washing, and self-imposed writing goals. But Kiddo has rarely, if ever, asked me how my work is going, so that couldn’t be it. “Under where?” I asked.

“You said underwear!” Kiddo threw back his head in laughter.

I sat there, stunned as the punch line sunk in. Kiddo had gotten me. I marveled at his maturing sense of humor, at the genius of the joke’s simplicity as well as Kiddo’s execution. It was a long way from his very first joke, “Once upon a time, there was a joke named joke and he was a joke!” (*da dum dum da* he’ll be here all week folks) I joined his laughter. “Very clever,” I said as I returned to my chores. “I made you said underwear!” Kiddo repeated, delighted with himself. “I got Daddy to say it too!” (word of caution to Kiddo’s grandparents, aunts, uncles, and assorted other caregivers – he’s really proud of this one, expect to hear it, over and over and over again)

Tears of laughter were welling up in Kiddo’s eyes as he turned to his brother and asked once again, “LT, how long were you under there.”

Without missing a beat, LT answers, “three minutes,” effectively beating his brother at his own game. I don’t know what exactly LT was supposedly under for three minutes (I mean I thought he was in my line of sight all this time, but with LT you never really know for sure) or how he knew the precise time, because he didn’t elaborate. Instead, LT immediately returned to plotting whatever nefarious plan to rule the world he is attempting next. This is also why I think he might just succeed.

So clearly I recognize that I am living with a budding evil genius, but maybe you don’t yet recognize the signs. If you are afraid you too may be raising the next crop of megalomaniacs intent on world domination, you may want to be on the lookout for a few of the following:

  1. Do they frequently use your best of intentions for their own gain?
    • You said the first day of summer is the longest day of the year. It was supposed to be a fun little fact to amuse and educate your offspring with. Instead you get, “If Mr. Sun isn’t going to bed, why do I have to?”
  2. Have you picked up an alarming “minion” vibe from their closest friends?

    • monkey toys
      exhibit A: The usual suspects
  3. Do you find yourself struggling to maintain your game face when they turn up the charm?
    • Because it is bedtime.
    • But why?
    • Because it is a school night and you have to go to bed now.
    • I no wanna go to school anyyyyyy mo.
    • You like school. All your friends will be at school. Don’t you want to play with your friends?
    • But I love you, momma. I wan to stay with you. Five mo minutes? (cue quivering lip)
    • (As little arms encircle your neck in best snuggle hug ever, feel your will break… Again.) Okay honey, five more minutes, but then it is bedtime. I mean it.
  4. Do they have an unusually intense obsession with potential lairs

    • volcano
      Exhibit B : Depiction of an erupting volcano. Note the artist’s use of broad strokes and bold colors to convey violence – one of many examples lining our walls
  5. Are they entirely too smart for their own good?
    • Reference story above

On the plus side, the children have decided to grace me with more than a couple of nights in a row of sleep. Obviously, they are up to something, but I’ve been taking advantage of it while I can. I’ve made significant gains in my manuscript (even though this current draft is pretty terrible, even by first draft standards) and have been taking a stab at some shorter fiction (I may even try to find homes for some of them). I’d better take advantage. Who knows when this opportunity might come again.

Step one in the plan to take over the world

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it
Pinky and the Brain
image quote courtesy of flickr

What’s this? Mom left her computer screen open. How convenient… It is I, the one and only LT and first of my name. You are also welcome to address me as your Future Supreme Leader of the World or the Exalted Captain Volcano Thunderclap as it is now only a matter of time before I assume my rightful place at the top of the world order. Let it not be said that I don’t offer choices. I am magnanimous that way.

Don’t listen to my brother. He is cray-cray. I also know he’s not supposed to be on the computer. I’m allowed to though because I’m the responsible one.

Kiddo? How? No, that doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m not cray-cray! The world is better off under my rule. I am serious! Picture it. Books and stuffed animals stacked as high as you could reach. More chocolate, ice cream, and all the milk you can drink. There will be mandatory bubble breaks for all and a swing set in every yard. It will be glorious. And those are just a few examples of the benefits of having me in charge. It will be the dawn of a new age of peace and prosperity.

Mom says you aren’t supposed to play on her computer. It’s one of the rules.

I don’t need mom’s permission to address the public. She writes about us all the time and never once asked my permission. Besides, they are my future subjects and they love me.

But I like it when mom writes about us. She’s making us famous. I think I should tell.

I see. You want to do this the hard way… Okay. If you tattle, I’ll tell her all about how you were playing Minecraft when you were supposed to be doing your homework or how you were the one to leave the LEGOs out last where mom and dad could step on them. Again. When I am done you will be lucky to ever leave the time-out chair.

You wouldn’t!

I would, and you know it.

I take your silence to mean we have an understanding. Now, since you are here, I could use your help.

I’m not sure. I don’t want to get in trouble.

You won’t get in trouble. Really, I only need you to do a small thing, a trifle even.

What’s a trifle?

It’s a small cake. You like cake.

Yeah, but obviously not as much as you do. I prefer healthy foods like proteins and fruit. We are learning all about making healthy food choices at school. You’ll learn about it too next year when you are finally big enough to come to my school. Mom says they used to call it a food pyramid when she was a kid, but it is a healthy plate now.

The only pyramids I am interested in are the ones they are going to build in my honor. Now back to the plan. I have decided it is time to initiate the next phase of my plan for global conquest, but in order to do so, I am going to need to reduce mom and dad’s overall ability to form a united resistance. That’s one of the first things I thought I’d taught you. That’s where you come in. For the next several nights, you and I will need to wake them up at random points in the early morning for whatever reason we can think of.

Like saying I heard a ghost opening my bedroom door or something scratching in the walls?

That’s perfect. Even better, wait until three am to tell her so that her imagination is just awake enough to run with it after you go back to bed. Then a night or so later, I’ll hear a thunderstorm and go into complete freak out mode even though the skies are completely clear.

Won’t that wake me up too?

It’s not like I just started planning my world takeover yesterday. I’ve been conditioning you against that since my infancy. Trust me. You will sleep right through it, but mom and dad won’t. A few more nights and they’ll be too exhausted to see straight, let alone pay attention to the next steps in the plan. It’s foolproof!

Do you really think that will work?

It’s already working. Do you really think I could have gotten this far if mom was really paying attention? Remember that whole thing with the cloud and the lost writing?

That was you? Oohhhhhhh…you are so getting into trrrrrooooubleeee…

I am neither denying or confirming I had anything to do with that incident. Besides – I’m cute. Even if I had something to do with it, and I am not saying I did, it’s not like I would be in trouble long. “I don’t know any better.” But that’s not the point. The point is that mom is distracted right now. You could probably tell her that she promised you a new dinosaur toy weeks ago for getting good grades and she’s probably tired enough to wonder if she actually did, and then just forgot.

Hmm, I would like more dinosaur toys, but…I still don’t know…

I’ll be your best brother…

Oh, alright then, but if mom or dad figures it out, you are on your own.

Excellent. We’ll talk again soon.

Very soon…

What to do when the cloud is not your friend

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

Unfriendly Cloud

You take a road trip but aren’t asked to drive. You have nothing but time on your hands as you sit in the backseat for the twelve-hour drive. You are amazed to realize the car is actually quiet. You’d left the kids at home. There are no small people complaining about the need for snacks and a potty break every twenty feet. No arguments about someone’s elbow extending too far over the shared armrest or whose turn it is to pick the movie. You’d almost forgotten how travel, sans children, could be.

You think, I’d better take advantage of this rare opportunity to write. With that kind of uninterrupted time, you are bound to make some significant headway into your neglected manuscript.

You put in your ear buds and start typing. After a few false starts the words start flowing and they are beautiful. You know that deep down these are scenes that are going to somehow survive through editing relatively intact. Thousands and thousands of words later, you press the save button. A message box opens up. Upload pending.

Ah, that’s right. There is no WiFi in the car and you have your word processing program set up to sync automatically to the cloud, a precaution you took after you nearly lost a portion of your previous manuscript to your aging computer’s blue screen of death. You click a few more buttons and shut the computer down. The writer’s euphoria stays with you for the rest of the day. Man, that scene was awesome. You daydream about future glowing reviews. You start actually looking forward to editing if only to bring the rest of your draft up to the same high standard.

The next day you wake up refreshed having actually slept in your own bed once again. After the colossal effort from the previous day, you think today might let yourself off with a light writing day. Maybe catch up on a blog or two, or possibly write a piece of flash fiction for a contest, but first, you want to make sure you sync your previous day’s writing to the cloud.

You open your word processor. A message box opens. “Would you like to sync?”

Yes please, you think to yourself. A progress bar opens. As you watch the bar fill, your eyes happen to notice the side bar navigation. Funny, I am pretty sure there were more chapter headings there yesterday. You scroll down as the file completes its upload. No other chapter headings are shown. Odd. You start feeling bile build in your stomach as you jump to the last page in the file.

“I think I found stairs.”

It wasn’t the glorious last line you knew would keep your readers turning the page. No. They are the last words you wrote three days ago, the last words that were synced with the cloud before your road trip. You’d forgotten the function works in both directions. Fudge (except, like in the Christmas Story, you aren’t thinking fudge).

What to do now?

  1. Click on File>Recover Unsaved Version.
  2. Stare at the resulting message box declaring no unsaved versions while remaining in denial.
  3. Open up every single file folder remotely related to your document in search of anything at all with the word Backup in the name.
  4. Finding nothing, go online and search for any hacker tips out there that might allow you to somehow recover previous keystrokes.
  5. Whimper as you realize you are in over your head.
  6. While remaining in denial, notify your loved one of your tragedy on the off-chance they might be able to somehow wave a magic wand and bring your work back.
  7. Cry.
  8. Pour yourself another cup of coffee.
  9. Consider if it would be okay under the circumstances to spike said cup of coffee though it is before 9am.
  10. Consider throwing up.
  11. Return to the manuscript while giving yourself the whole, you wrote it once, you can write it again pep talk.
  12. Remind yourself that you are a terrible liar.
  13. Cry some more.
  14. Recognize that the diet is ruined and eat a cookie.
  15. Write something entirely different, maybe an attempt at a blog post so that others might share in your pain; someone, at least, ought to be laughing.
  16. Return to the scene of the crime (because that is what it is, cloud, that’s what it is!)
  17. Stare at your cursor.
  18. Sigh.
  19. Drain your cup of un-doctored coffee (pat yourself on the back for remaining strong).
  20. Start writing once more.

 

A letter from Her Royal Highness

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

Her royal highness

It has come to Our attention that one of Our staff released a statement to the public regarding the early days of Our initial residence. While We believe this should have remained a private matter, We can no longer ignore the continued calls for additional clarity regarding this ongoing transition and have decided to release this first State of the Realm.

First, while We would enjoy more pillows, and certainly disapprove of this breach in protocol, We harbour no ill will toward the original letter’s author. In fact, We have adopted several programmes specifically designed to increase the health, security, and happiness for her as well as all resident staff. For example, We have instigated not one, but a minimum of two mandatory walks around the grounds and extended estate daily. This exercise regime has not only increased the sense of community but is on track to decrease their bottom line as well. Similar programmes have also been devised for the younger staff within Our estate and we have no reason to believe that their results will be any different as their responsibility grows.

We have increased security throughout the premises. Just this morning, Our finely tuned alert system sent a potential intruder, cleverly disguised as a delivery man, on his way with minimal confrontation. We can speculate all too clearly what foul deed this person might have performed were it not for Our high standards and Our rigorous process of background checks. Additionally, a scourge of local ruffians, commonly known as the gang of squirrels, have since been placed on the highest watch lists. Though it has been less than ninety days since We took Our residence, We are pleased to say that their villainy is on the decline as reported by all measures of nearby squirrel based activity.

We have also commissioned several renovations throughout the estate. While some of these changes may appear drastic to the untrained eye, they were all designed with the greatest consideration to the needs of Our staff. These changes primarily involved increasing the quantity of natural light as well as open air flow within the palace, both of which have been proven to have a positive impact on the human brain in its attentiveness as well as its ability to ward off disease. These changes also created the added benefit of promoting continued adult education and development of useful trade skills such as carpentry.

Renovations

Then there is the matter of happiness. Before We took residence, small bits known as LEGOS littered the ground well beyond the boundaries of acceptable use. We were told these bits regularly caused issues such as foot pain, quarrels among the ranks, and lack of sleep for elder staff at the end of a work day. This was not only a long standing problem, it was a problem the staff believed to be insurmountable as well. We sank our teeth into this problem immediately. It only took two instances of rendering these nuisances into unrecognizable lumps of plastic to convince the younger staff to improve their standards of cleanliness, and as it is said, cleanliness is next to godliness, or at least linked to a greater probability of happiness.

Lastly, as all great leaders know, it is not enough to put a matter in writing. Leaders should and must lead by example. We are quite content. We trust that all who appreciate and emulate Our regal bearing will be soon follow suit and are now looking most forward to a long and prosperous age.

We wish each of you continued similar success.

Sincerely,

HRH The Princess Royal V.C. Potts, the first of her name.

 

 

 

In the wilds, or the zoo, one should never settle

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

“Children are smarter than any of us. Know how I know that? I don’t know one child with a full-time job and children.” – Bill Hicks

Kiddo was on spring break and was spending the working hours with my mom. “I was thinking about taking the boys to the zoo. LT too,” my mom offered. “You are welcome to join us.” Kiddo has been to the zoo before, but LT hadn’t, and considering his 4-year-old/life-long obsession with monkeys (really, any simian), I couldn’t help but imagine the expression on his face when he saw the living creatures. I knew I had to come along.

That morning, there was a slight chill in the air, but the skies were clear and blue. Well, at least mostly blue. Occasionally clouds of yellow-green-death dust could be seen billowing down from the trees (we really have six seasons: Summer, Fall, Summer’s Revenge, Winter, Spring, and Pollen), but otherwise it was a good day to be outside.

“Are we going to see monkeys, mommy?” LT asked just before I loaded my offspring into the car.

“I am pretty sure we will.” Two hours later we only had ten miles left to go when traffic came to a stop. I am not quite sure what happened as the roads were clear, perhaps the pollen had taken another victim, in any event, a car had taken a detour into a ditch. We stopped and started and stopped again. The meeting with monkeys would have to wait.

Somehow we made it to the final turn lane before the zoo’s entrance, but we weren’t alone. Apparently, we weren’t the only one to decide that a day trip was in order. Cars filled the parking lot and a line of other families crammed together on a narrow bridge way that fed into the ticketing lanes. I plopped LT into a stroller and did my best to navigate through the masses. It was slow going. It’s going to be worth it though, I thought to myself.

Eventually, we made it through the crowd and into the park. And then there were animals. Graceful giraffes grazed as zebras sunned themselves on a hillside next to a small water feature. They weren’t monkeys, but I thought they’d do. My youngest would be impressed all the same. Here it is, the big moment. It’s going to be worth it. I escorted LT up as close to the creatures as possible. He stood, pulling himself up on the wall as high as his arms would allow.

“What do you think?”

“I see . . . I see . . . I see A WATERFALL!” He pointed. Sure enough, a trickle of water poured down the hill into the water feature, but it wasn’t exactly Niagara falls.

“Yes, honey, I see a waterfall too, but what do you think of the animals?”

“WATERFALL!” (Have I mentioned he is also obsessed with waterfalls?)

My mom, overhearing this last remark, joked that perhaps instead of the zoo we should have planned a trip to Iceland instead.

dang.

“The children of the revolution are always ungrateful, and the revolution must be grateful that it is so.” – Ursula K. Le Guin

I loaded LT back into the stroller and made our way to the next exhibit – again, not monkeys. I leaned down and once again asked, “what do you think?”

“Where is the waterfall?”

Sigh…

Finally after walking what felt like miles, we found ourselves on the last stretch of path to the chimpanzee enclosure. Crowds of people surrounded us. I ditched the stroller and carried LT the rest of the way. The glass was blocked by children and parents alike. Then one family looked back and pulled their children to the side so that LT could squeeze in between them. There walked not one, but several chimpanzees.

One of the younger chimps, ignoring the crowd, decided to roll down the hill on its side. LT wasn’t the only child in the crowd to squeal with delight. Another chimp climbed into a hammock.

“Mommy . . . Mommy . . .” LT shook in excitement as he tried force the words through an ear to ear grin. “MONKEYS!”

One day, I’ll explain the difference between a monkey and a chimpanzee, but I decided to save that argument for another day. It was finally here. It was the big moment and it was even better than I imagined. To think I’d been prepared to accept something less just because it was easier.

“Let us not be content to wait and see what will happen, but give us the determination to make the right things happen.” – Horace Mann

LT hadn’t settled, nor had he let me, and as a result, we both achieved our goal for the day.

May tomorrow be just as successful.

quotes courtesy of http://www.brainyquote.com