Thursday, May 11, 2006

So, so tired...

Man, I'm fucking tired. I had my short work day today and had to constantly keep moving with Miss O to keep from passing out. We drew, hit the grocery store, played some guitar, shit we even made some chocolate-chip cookies:

Which ROCKED, I must say. Lemme tell you, if you are into baking at all, you've got to get this book:

No, fuck that, even if you're not into baking, get it. I cannot understand people who say, "Oh, I can't cook." What the crap?! Can you read?! Basically, that's all you need to be able to do. Read some words, and then move your hands around and dump shit in stuff and then twist a knob and put the stuff you mixed around into a really hot area. Then, when you hear a dinging sound, you pull the shit out of the hot area, let it cool a bit, and then you shove it into that big hole in your face. That's cooking. I can't cook. Fucking morons.

Mr. Z got this little bug bite, or something, on his eyelid the other day. It seemed like nothing but then, yesterday, it was all swollen up and there was this little red streak thing moving away from it -- turns out he's got cellulitis and has to take this antibiotic four times a day. See, it's little shit like that that makes me fucking exhausted. Not only do I now have to worry about him getting some sort of eyelid elephantiasis, but I also have to drive over to his school at lunchtime every day and pour him some pink antibiotic juice to suck down.

You fuckers without kids don't get it. It's non-stop shit like that, day after day after day. It all adds up until you find yourself sitting in your basement, taking pictures of a plate of cookies, so you can post it on the internet and hope that some schmuck comes along and acknowledges it so you can prove to yourself that you're still alive. "Oooh! Three people looked at the picture of my plate of cookies, today!!!! I'm a somebody, I'm a somebody!!!" [Don't get me wrong -- I appreciate the four or five people who swing by to read my drivel. I use the word 'schmuck' in only the best sense.]

I even tried to record Mr. Z and Miss O singing their "Slippery Dick" song today, but that quickly devolved into a fucking nightmare. I was trying to set up the mic stands, and they kept knocking them over, and then Mr. Z started yelling at Miss O not to sing during the chorus. Then Miss O kept smacking her ukulele into my $1000 microphone, and Mr. Z kept yelling--

I was just too exhausted to deal with it today, so I pulled out the ultimate parental weapon. I simply stated, "You know what? Forget it." and shut everything down. If you ever want both of your kids to simultaneously burst into tears, say that. It's like a parenting neutron bomb -- all the buildings are left standing but any child within the targeted area is destroyed. It's not that I did it on purpose, I just had to eject myself from the situation. They forced my hand.

We all bounced back, though. I boiiled up a batch of Edamame as a peace offering, which was greatly appreciated. After a good dinner and a couple of piggy-backs upstairs, all was forgotten.

Now I've gotta trudge upstairs and go to sleep. If only I had someone to give me a piggy-back.


Cazzie!!! said...

Hehe, my cooking for today began yesterday, Mr N turned 7 today so I had to bake a cake for school...then this morning I iced said cake and put sprinkles over it and found the number 7 candle and grabbed some serviettes for the kids to eat the cake on at school. THen I got home and made two ice cream cakes for tonights big party that will have 15 under 9 year olds running around..have no fear, it is a Hungry Jacks party..cant go wrong, just provide kids+ cake =mess that aint for me to clean up!!!

_jjs said...

The more I read the more I wonder, do I really want children?

I love this frickin' blog! It cracks me up every single post.

crabbydad said...

Thanks, JJS. I don't want to be the one to tell you TO have children, or the one to convince you NOT to have 'em. I think they rock, but they're definitely not for everybody. Kinda like that band "The Darkness." Anyway, whatever you decide, just don't back over me with your car.

Megan said...

wow. but...i...really...can't...cook!

but i can bake. anyone can bake. the savory mains are difficult!

anything by cook's illustrated is terrific.

crabbydad said...

Cazzmeister -- I just looked up "Hungry Jacks" to see what the shit you were talking about. It's the Aussie Burger King! Who knew?! What's "The Whopper" called? "The Bloomin' Double Meaty Pie"? (that cake sounds like a bonzer, tho'!)

crabbydad said...

Megan, of all people! If you can bake, you can cook. It's not voodoo. Unless you cook a lot of things with chicken feet and newts. Then it probably is voodoo.

And yes, Cook's Illustrated is the best. Nothing better than foodie savants writing recipes for you.

Now get in the kitchen and cook something!

BeardofPants said...

Haha, this has to be the funniest thing I've read in ages.