Monday, August 08, 2005

Happy Birthday Hubert

First, gentle reader, let me apologize for the light (COUGHnonexistentCOUGH) posting. Factors contributing to this include:
  • Our wedding anniversary (10 years! Or, as my Dad would say, 6 wonderful years), which included a trip to Savannah. I have pictures and will write about the trip when I can get them from the camera.
  • My birthday, which included several games, movies, and books that I have been wanting desperately. Hugh Hewitt, Star Wars, and She's Having a Baby are involved, but not in any combination that I can seem to make funny.
  • A recent switch to Caffeine Free Coke, which led to deep, debilitating depression. It is now my belief that this beverage is of the devil, and I have switched back to normal Coke. There may be an upcoming entry about this experience, which I am considering titling "12 Cans of Hell," but it may be that some things are just better left unsaid.
Last night, however, there occurred an event whose story must be told. It started out innocently enough . . .

We had a surprise birthday party at the house of some former neighbors, Hubert and Christine. They used to live across the street from us, forming one point of the Kristie-Christine-Kristen triangle, alternately known as The Picnic Table of Confusion.

The entire Picnic Table was there, including all children, plus a few extra. Some friends of ours had to visit someone in the hospital, and so we took their 3 kids with us. Our charges are, of course, some of the best friends of my children, and their presence was merely gasoline on the pre-existing fire that is our daily life.

So here's the group: 6 adults, 9 kids. Three of the children did not have a parent at the event; two of the adults do not have children (much less mini-herds of them). It was, in a word, utter chaos. I have several new ulcers that I am nursing (with Coke, of course).

The hosts, however, were ridiculously gracious, and said nothing about the gazillion handprints on newly-moved-into windows, or of the whining about pizza that was the wrong shape, color, etc. Early in the evening we sent the kids to the deck to play while the adults took a tour of the house. When the kids came back in, to my horror they all had feet blackened by what looked like coal dust. Christine didn't bat an eye, and they took all the kids and washed off their feet in their new bathtub, which is roughly the size of the Indian Ocean.

About 9 PM, our other friends returned and got their kids. It was hoped that my guys would calm down some, and everything seemed headed toward a peaceful conclusion.

About 15 minutes into desert (Christine makes a home-made Tiramisu that is only legal in 5 states; superlatives do not exist to describe it) one of our neighbor's girls comes into the dining room and whispers something to her mother.

"He what?" she says.

The girl says it out loud this time, "Jonah tinkled on me."

My turn, "He WHAT?"

This girl's father is a former Marine. I fear for Jonah's life.

Rushing to the deck, I see a large puddle on the ground that wasn't there before. Sadly, there are no overturned cups anywhere nearby.

Apparently, being 2 hours past his normal bedtime, Jonah was a little punchy last night. In a strange house, he did not know where the potty was. So when the urge hit, he decided to drop trou right there and fire away. The girls were just caught in the crossfire, as it were. During subsequent discussion, Jonah remarked that only babies pee in their pants. I informed him that peeing in one's pants is much preferred to peeing on the legs or back deck of somebody else.

None of this is to excuse him. He did receive a spanking, and he did have to apologize to the girls, their parents, and our hosts. Since I have past professional experience with a mop, Hubert and Christine now have a very clean deck.

So, for his birthday, Hubert got a bottle of wine, some homemade cookies, an evening with friends, 3 hours of utter and complete chaos, an entertaining story, and a freshly-mopped deck. Happy Birthday, Hubert, and best wishes.

My wife has informed me that she does not belive Jonah received a spanking. My memory is unclear, although I find it hard to believe he avoided one. However, I will defer to her, since she sometimes brings me breakfast if I sleep in late.

When I said above that my wife "sometimes brings me breakfast if I sleep in late," I should have been more precise in my use of language.

What I meant to say was that, if, after a sleepless night (due to child illness, storms, or what-not), I wake up at 7:50 on a work day, my wife will sometimes bring me two pieces of peanut butter toast while I'm booting up my computers and swearing at them in an attempt to get them up and running by 8:00 AM so that I can answer phone calls. I did not mean to imply that she will bring me breakfast in bed if I choose to lounge in bed reading Harry Potter books. Because that surely won't happen.

Just so we're clear.


At 8:05 PM, Blogger Splitcat Chintzibobs said...

On the subject of Not-Quite Cokes (Diet Coke, Caffeine Free Diet Coke, the dreaded Caffeine Free Diet Coke--why bother, Coke Zero, Diet Coke with Splenda, Diet Cherry Coke, etc), my personal experience is that the NQC's tend to give a nice quick jolt, leading to a rapid and devastating emotional crash. This leads to a never-ending and increasingly rapid cycle of more and more NQC's. The Real Thing, on the other hand, provides a nice, prolonged buzz (so to speak) that lets you down gently and with no aftertaste! All of them are massively addictive. Only one is tasty.

At 12:34 PM, Blogger Becki said...

Stick with the real coke. You need the caffeine to keep up with those boys. (I sure hope Jonah DIDN'T get a spanking!)

Jonah's Grandmother :)

At 9:27 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

That word you used "occasional" I do not think it means what you think it means.


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