Some people have a bad life, Some have a an average experience and some have a great life. No matter where people fit in this, they will still complain. Which is why I am here.
I have been noticing how much of my life is immersed in literal crap. It fills my home, my thoughts and my daily life.
You ask; "How can that be, when you have a nice wife and beautiful children?" Kids are where it starts! I have a 9 month old who may as well be a fertilizer factory. This kid can load a diaper in record time. He even has different settings for firmness and quantity.
The 3 year old is no better. He is nearly potty trained, except for the number 2 part. On the plus side, he is advanced in his training so he comes and asks for a diaper so he can go do his job. Which by the way, he is quick to let you know, that once you have supervised the application of the diaper, your presence is no longer required, as he "wants his privacy." A few days ago, just around bedtime, I hear the shower turn on and much arguing between Josh and his mommy. Apparently he had taken it upon himself to remove his own diaper once it was at capacity and in doing so managed to soil the throw rug in his bedroom. I was already asleep when the circus started and groggily waddled into the bathroom to see this huge brown stain on the rug, and then was accosted by a smell that would put a stockyard to shame.
Which brings up another issue. I live on the edge of the city, where 100 yards away we have the border to open country. Less than a 3 minute drive from us there are bovines. Lots of them. Depending on the time of year the feedlots near us can have thousands of them. If the wind is in just the right direction you can experience the invigorating aroma of fermenting fertilizer and ammonia in the evening air. Sometimes I like to sleep with my window open and the fan on and get the benefit of the pleasant smell of fresh air and the clover in the fields. Once in a while the wind shifts and the fan turns into the equivalent of a turbocharger for flatulent cows. There is no better way to get me out of the bed than to blow Angus methane up my nose. 2 days ago Josh walked into my room and asked if I would read him a story then his nose wrinkled up. "Daddy, what is that smell?" I replied, "That my son, is the smell of the country." He looked at me funny and then decided he did not really need a story all that bad after all and went to his own room.
Last night I was asleep when I the familiar fragrance drifted in. I sleepily closed the window and remembered that I had forgotten to take a pill. I went to the kitchen, pulled the basket of medicine off the fridge and dispensed myself some blood pressure medicine. Downed a big glass of water and went back to sleep. About 3 hours later I had a sharp pain and made a beeline for the bathroom. Dessy heard the commotion and calmly walked in the room with the bottle of medicine I had taken. She said "Hon, did you take you blood pressure medicine?" "YES, for crying out loud, can't you see I am busy here?"
She lovingly smiled and showed me the bottle. "Did you mix up your bottle with this bottle of laxatives?" She then got this evil smile,like she could not have planned that one out better herself and she returned to bed.
I read the bottle and realized my mistake.
Well crap.
I have been noticing how much of my life is immersed in literal crap. It fills my home, my thoughts and my daily life.
You ask; "How can that be, when you have a nice wife and beautiful children?" Kids are where it starts! I have a 9 month old who may as well be a fertilizer factory. This kid can load a diaper in record time. He even has different settings for firmness and quantity.
The 3 year old is no better. He is nearly potty trained, except for the number 2 part. On the plus side, he is advanced in his training so he comes and asks for a diaper so he can go do his job. Which by the way, he is quick to let you know, that once you have supervised the application of the diaper, your presence is no longer required, as he "wants his privacy." A few days ago, just around bedtime, I hear the shower turn on and much arguing between Josh and his mommy. Apparently he had taken it upon himself to remove his own diaper once it was at capacity and in doing so managed to soil the throw rug in his bedroom. I was already asleep when the circus started and groggily waddled into the bathroom to see this huge brown stain on the rug, and then was accosted by a smell that would put a stockyard to shame.
Which brings up another issue. I live on the edge of the city, where 100 yards away we have the border to open country. Less than a 3 minute drive from us there are bovines. Lots of them. Depending on the time of year the feedlots near us can have thousands of them. If the wind is in just the right direction you can experience the invigorating aroma of fermenting fertilizer and ammonia in the evening air. Sometimes I like to sleep with my window open and the fan on and get the benefit of the pleasant smell of fresh air and the clover in the fields. Once in a while the wind shifts and the fan turns into the equivalent of a turbocharger for flatulent cows. There is no better way to get me out of the bed than to blow Angus methane up my nose. 2 days ago Josh walked into my room and asked if I would read him a story then his nose wrinkled up. "Daddy, what is that smell?" I replied, "That my son, is the smell of the country." He looked at me funny and then decided he did not really need a story all that bad after all and went to his own room.
Last night I was asleep when I the familiar fragrance drifted in. I sleepily closed the window and remembered that I had forgotten to take a pill. I went to the kitchen, pulled the basket of medicine off the fridge and dispensed myself some blood pressure medicine. Downed a big glass of water and went back to sleep. About 3 hours later I had a sharp pain and made a beeline for the bathroom. Dessy heard the commotion and calmly walked in the room with the bottle of medicine I had taken. She said "Hon, did you take you blood pressure medicine?" "YES, for crying out loud, can't you see I am busy here?"
She lovingly smiled and showed me the bottle. "Did you mix up your bottle with this bottle of laxatives?" She then got this evil smile,like she could not have planned that one out better herself and she returned to bed.
I read the bottle and realized my mistake.
Well crap.
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