Friday, June 04, 2004

So we're about to head upstairs for bed, when Alex wakes up screaming. Howling. Like there's a giant fire ant at the foot of his bed making funny faces at him or something. We usually just let him be, a little crying and he falls asleep again, but this time his crying is insistent, somewhat urgent, a little different. My wife finally goes in there and smells the stinkiest of stinky diapers, and Number Two had taken its toll.

He's actually been changed and fed a little now, but he's still letting off the occasional howl. My wife seems to think that it's pretty odd to be sleeping one moment, and then be pooping the next. Suddenly you wake up and you smell, and there's a general squishiness in your shorts that ain't right - I suppose something like that would make me cry as well.

Okay, here's storytime. We debated about sharing this on the blog, but since it's actually an amusing anecdote, we'll risk embarassing our daughter. My mom and my cousin have pretty strong accents, and my accent switches on and off, depending on who I'm talking to. I likely use my American accent to talk to my cousin, but my Singaporean accent will always be back for my mom. Don't know why. Perception of what my personality has to be when I'm interacting with certain people, I suppose.

Anyway, the core of the story is that our daughter goes up to my wife, and tells her that she thinks she's picked up a little bit of an accent. From my mom and cousin staying over for the weekend. She then corrects herself and says that it might just be a slight accent.

Goes to show, everybody does wanna be like me.

Thursday, June 03, 2004

My father-in-law has graciously offered to front the money, if we found something that we liked, to buy a used van this weekend at the car auction, and then when we sold my wife's Kia, we'd use the money to pay him back. This, of course, puts all kinds of ideas and questions in our head, like how that would work with the bank, and whether or not we really need a bigger vehicle.

Wilbur had to go to the vet today, due to some sneezing and we found out that he had a respiratory infection, which isn't a huge surprise considering that he's been outside for the past two weeks, we assume. Ironically, the rain and cold that gave him that probably saved his life as well, with the cooler weather and the rain that was probably the only water he had access to. We're guessing he was under the neighbor's house, but we're speculating. If it wasn't for Franklin's Fat Ass sitting on the crawlspace cover and caving it in, Wilbur would probably still be stuck in there. But we're just guessing.

Last night a meteor zoomed past the whole state, disappating into the atmosphere. It was cool to hear about it, and it was cool to see it on surveillance cameras, but it really would've been something to see it. The videos are similar to the ones I videotaped during a lighting storm (and slowed the footage down), but it was still cool to watch. Imagine seeing that with the human eye. I would think that one would assume the worse at that point.

Me, I was sleeping. Story of my life.

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Good News

Well, after a good weekend with my mom, Wilbur showed up about two weeks after he disappeared. I was actually trying to see where loud music was playing from, when I spotted him sitting by the porch, looking the other direction. When he saw me, he actually hid under the porch. But when he finally came back in, you could see that he's been toughing it because he is much skinnier than before. He's lost some weight around the face, and his body is leaner. The funny thing about it is he was actually friendlier than before, probably because he's happy to be home. So, hooray! We're back to three cats.

My mom and my cousin had a good time visiting Alex this weekend, and we even had an extra day of fun when my mom decided to go home on Monday evening. We scoured the Peace Arch Outlet Center, and found out how much it sucked. Half the stores were abandoned, and the other half was unexciting. So we ventured down to Burlington and found ourselves a Krispy Kreme store. Woohoo! My dislike of doughnuts due to a childhood puking accident is somehow forgotten when you're in line at Krisy Kremes. Somehow, the cool doughnut machine with the conveyor lines makes the manufacturing of the donuts seem more glamorous and superb. Suddenly it's all some sacred glorious creation that can be witnessed and enjoyed - I would have to say that about 60 percent of enjoying those doughnuts is mental. The rest of it is pure sugar.

Alex's latest thing is doing a low growl, sorta like I do with him when I'm being a monster. Except when he does it, it's the cutest thing because here's this little knee-biter, who's growling with the sweetest look on his face, and he's coarsing his throat to be scary. And no, he's not trying to be intimidating, probably just digs the sound he's making.

On the way back from Burlington, "Take a Chance on Me" came on and my little boy said, "Aa-Bah." No bad for a little boy who's never heard ABBA before.

Sunday, May 30, 2004

Well, so far my mom and cousin's visit up here has been going on well. I'm glad my cousin has a new big minivan/SUV so we can truck everyone around in just one vehicle, and everyone has their space. That kinda cemented the idea that maybe a bigger SUV wouldn't be all that bad. For visits and whatnot.

Not a lot of highlights to be had, my wife is still adapting to my mom (and probably vice versa), and there's a lot of cultural differences that surface in everyday interaction that I didn't know was a big deal. For instance, my mom has been telling my wife to take a nap, let us handle the baby, and my wife takes that a little differently than my Mom means it. My wife sees it as, "Well, you're not doing a good job with that, you should go away and do something else." I had to explain to my wife that she may not be seeing what we're seeing, which is a pregnant mommy with a broken toe who's limping around at around 1 mph, and whenever she's carrying the baby, and the rest of us have our hands in our pockets - that just ain't right.

Our cat Wilbur is still missing, and now the other two cats are equally traumatized by my cousin's dog, Ah Shi. The dog is relatively friendly, if not a little too enthusiatic. I consider myself a dog lover and whatnot, more so than a catlover, but Ah Shi did something that wrong yesterday that I have to share it, of course.

Apparently, Alex had a pooper diaper yesterday and Ah Shi, being a dog that he is, smelt it. Well, then he got a little weird and started to hump my son's leg. So I was freaking out, and the dog tried repeatedly afterward to impregnate my son. While my son was crawling away, completely unaware of the hairy evil that lurks above him, the stupid ass dog tried to mount my son. So I tried again and again to push him away, because him not being my dog, I couldn't knock him on the head or anything. Needless to say, there's nothing more disturbing than seeing an animal attempt to seed your baby.

Like I said to my wife, "Yeah, the smell of poop always makes me wanna have homosexual interspecies sex."

Watch that pop up as the result of a Google search.