Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Livin' With Evils's - Volume 9

A quick note before I post another blog from a year ago ... I am sorry that i haven't gotten much new writing in lately but I have been so sick I have been unable to do much of anything but flyby's and rating ... I am feeling a bit better today and can almost hear my children enough to want to kill them again ... I hope you all have a wonderful evening ... On with the show ...

Ok … I am sitting here all holed up in my bomb shelter {my den is in the basement} trying to hold off the enemy combatants of TOKE {The Terrorist Organization Known as the Evils’s}, are desperately trying to take down Superdaddyman with another bio-agent that they have set loose on the town of Megalopolis! Yes it is up to Superdaddyman, to try to vanquish such evil while they have recruited, the biggest of all evil to join their plot known as “Operation Get Daddy”! The more than evil … Greektradgedius Inyiddish, has been a big ticking time bomb of bio-agent, for this last week, and I am about ready to KILL MYSELF! If it isn’t bad enough taking care of three sick children {which realistically all you have to do is put them in bed with the TV on and feed them Popsicles}, then having to walk around a very angry old woman, who is just miserable for 4 strait days really sucks rock. I mean, please keep in mind that it hasn’t stopped her ability to go out and shop for VERY HEAVY stuff everyday, it’s just stopped her ability to carry any of it. Mind you, I know why the doctor tells me I can’t lift more than 30 lbs now, and when I get this stupid bio-agent, I will have a very sore back to go with it.

The military installation known as The Casa Di Evils’s is set up in a very demilitarized way. There is the downstairs … MY TURF … which I defend with every force that I have at my disposal, this of course involves … the passive aggressive comment, the time out, the removal of ones “stuff” from their room, the denial of sustenance (desert), and on occasion in extreme circumstances, the spanking … In this demilitarized zone of the house, are the things that I hold most dear {yea yea yea, beside the kids}, which include, MY bedroom, the movie theatre {and yes it is AWESOME}, my den (where I am sitting right now, and where my cam is located) which is the only place in the house I let people smoke, and MY bathroom … the laundry room is considered neutral territory, so I do not claim it by military victory, lest I get stuck doing ALL of the laundry.

There is the upstairs … HER TURF … which she defends with every force at her disposal, this of course involves … the guilt trip, the time out, the rearranging of ones “stuff” from just about any room, did I mention the guilt trip? … and in extreme circumstances, the wooden spoon to the fanny … In this demilitarized zone of the house, are the things that she holds most dear, piles of crap that she forgot about, my old furniture that she claimed as her own, and lots of stuff that is NEVER to be moved, or touched in any way, punishable by guilt trip. She is NOT to be screwed with, as she carry’s several black belts in emotional abuse, guilt, and the almighty “I’m old so I can’t change” lecture. The kitchen is considered neutral territory, and she still tries to claim it by military victory, but I have a defensive perimeter I call … ignorance.

The scary thing about this whole ordeal is that each of us are responsible for defending our own territory against the evils’s at all times, based on a treaty that we signed many years ago. This usually keeps us from killing each other in a “friendly fire” incident, and hopefully we will each make it another year toward “Evil Extraction Day” {August 25, 2018} which we will both celebrate, by sacrificing Imtoocutus to the cold cruel world, once and for all with a footprint upon her posterior. Unfortunately I am also bound by a clause in this treaty {the “You’re their f***ing father” clause}, to defend her territory, in case of bio agents, that are released into the atmosphere that take down Queen Elizabeth the Guilty, and it has been a very rough few days. On top of being an ambassador of good will in her territory, I am also duty bound, by fear of the guilt trip, to enforce all of her ever changing rules. Her rules are like the Democrats version of the Constitution, in that it can be misinterpreted at any time, for any reason.

So during my hostage situation yesterday at the bowling alley, with the Second Grade members of TOKE, I came home to find out that Imtoocutus, had inadvertently forgotten to place her Hermit Crab back in it’s tank. She also managed to forget where she had it, or if she even had it to begin with. Her normal excuse of blaming Captain ADHD for the mis-step was thwarted by the fact that Captain ADHD was at the Bowling Alley {and in my photo gallery I have pictures to prove it}, and she was sticking to her story, and refusing to help search for it. This of course inspired me to assume that one of the Vice Presidents of “Operation Get Daddy” aka …. “The Mother Of All The Evils’s”, knew that this would happen when she got Imtoocutus the Hermit crab. So I was forced to spend a good chunk of last night looking in and under absolutely EVERYTHING, but to no avail {RIP … Hermie the crab … I’ll find you when I smell ya}, and the world goes on as I am used to it otherwise. Greektradgedius Inyiddish managed to follow me around the whole house {coughing all over me}, as I busted my aching back to look under everything, reminding me over and over again that I should have never let that thing in the house to begin with. I held my composure rather than saying something like “Well perhaps you could have paid attention to her when she had it“, but I chose not to because of the “You made those f***ing kids clause“ that I didn‘t want thrown back at me in the stupid treaty. ;8o)