What Do You Think?

I'm going to change the name of my blog and transfer it over to Wordpress. Because that is what all the cool kids are doing.

I can't decide what to call it yet. While wwwdontmakemecountto3 was smart and pretty witty of my wife when she created the blog, there are more than one “don't make me count to three” out there. So I'm looking for something a bit more unique.

I've made a list of some of the things I've come up with so far.

Would you believe 12toes.com has been taken?

Here we go:

jensenarchives.com (Jensen Archives)

thejensenblog.com (The Jensen Blog)

talesofastayathomedad.com (Tales Of A Stay At Home Dad)

theepicchroniclesofastayathomedad.com (The EPIC CHRONICLES Of A Stay At Home Dad)

iamnotagiantsquid.com (I Am Not A Giant Squid)

Ok, I really started running out of ideas.

In other news my laptop went * POP * and died. It would only run for about 10 minutes before doing it again. So I went shopping for a new laptop. The hatchet sticking out of the keyboard didn't have anything to do with it. Not anything at all.

On the way to the store Zoey wanted to read out loud to me and Sara wanted to listen to New Kids On the Block. I'm not sure which was the most agonizing. It's not that Zoey's reading is bad. She's getting very good at it. She tends to distract herself easily; so three or four words into a sentence she fades out like a bad radio signal and then she picks back up. Kind of like listening to AM radio when going through a tunnel. Or listening to a catatonic.

We're not far down the road and Sara says, “Turn down the air!”

“Sweety, it's 120°. I'm not turning down the a/c.”

“I'm hot! Dad! I'm sweating...” Zoey was hot. Zoey was sweating.

“I'm cold!”

“I'm hot!”

Well, Zoey did wear jeans and a long sleeve shirt. She wanted to wear something blue.

“I'm telling MOMMY!”

*sigh*


Before noon on a Monday is the best time to be at Fry's. No crowd. No pushy sales people. Although in the computer section there were way more sales people than customers. I was approached seven times before I actually needed someone's help. By this time the girls were getting a bit antsy. They were trying so hard to be good, but watching me circle the laptops like a buzzard around an armadillo they got a little bored.


I find it ironic that Fry's, home of everything awesome and cool, uses computers made in 1995 for the sales staff to use on the floor.

 HEY!

Homeofeverythingawesomeandcool.com

I bought a cheap refurbished HP. It was not made in 1995. And I am NOT a giant squid.

Day At The Pool

It was an easy smooth day.

I stayed up really really late last night waiting for Stephanie to get home from the New Kids On The Block concert. To bide my time I watched 2012 again and started drinking.

She said something about getting home by 11. I figured it would be closer to 12.

Midnight came and went and I hadn’t heard from her yet. I had assumed I’d at least get a text saying, “OMWH”.

I’m assuming that’s what texting people would text.

Like how they say, “IROADT” for I Ran Over A Duck Today.

So I sent her a text saying, “Where the f^&* are you?” I meant it in the most kindest loving way possible.

Two seconds later she pulled into the driveway. And she still didn’t bother to text me back. So texted, “Never mind.”

Still, no response.

My movie was over anyway and I decided I’d rather watch something with Morgan Freeman in it.  The Dark Knight was on, and about over anyway, so I watched it.

Then War of the Worlds came on.  And I’m thinking, “Awesome! It’s a Morgan Freeman marathon!” I made it as far as the aliens rising like giant mechanized zombies before dozing off.

So yeah, I slept in. Pool doesn’t open until 12 anyway. Actually, our pool is open only from 12 – 8 and only THREE DAYS A WEEK. Friday, Saturday & Sunday.  It’s summer time and this pool is open only 3 days. In their defense though, on the few times we’ve gone so far, we were the only ones there.

I had noticed when I got there that I had forgotten to clip my toenails on one foot. I can’t remember why. I thought I looked weird with one normal looking trimmed and neat foot and one that was starting to look like I was going for some record in Guinness.  But, as I mentioned earlier, we were the only ones there. I still couldn’t help but feel just a little stupid.

But then the lifeguards were there to save me. From feeling stupid that is.

One of them was floating face down in the pool. The guy in the chair threw his flip flop at Floater to get his attention.

Chair:  “What are you doing?”

Floater:  “I’m trying to breathe underwater with this.”

Chair:  “You’re trying to breathe underwater with an empty Snapple bottle?”

Floater:  “Yeah. It’s not working very well.”

At which time I’m thinking that Chair is obviously the more intelligent of the two.  All ten of his toes were neatly trimmed too.  But then he kept talking.

Chair:  “An empty 2 or 3 liter Coke bottle would probably work better.”

Well, of course it would work better.

And I found goo in my lunchable. Bleh.

Up Too Late Eating Taco Meat

Whatever.

Here I've gone and finished it without even inviting YOU.  And HOLY CRAP, I totally tossed the f&%^ing phone onto the floor while trying to take a picture.

For you!

I'm a clutz. Or a saint. It all depends on how you look at it.

In either case, it was delicious.

And this phone must be made of unobtanium, because it didn't even BLINK while it skittered across the floor in a poor attempt to catalog my sad life. I mean PHOTOlog. That's a word. Right?

I'd also like to point out my ponytail making skills have increased significantly.

Look at THAT!

One try. Hells YEAH!

And take a look at this face!

HAP-EE-NESS!!!

On a side note, Sara's older sister at a much younger age used to confuse the hell outta me.  She started asking for "Anthony."

?

"I want a Anthony!"

Zoey is, was, and and ever will be adamant about what she wants. WTF is Anthony all about?

It's all about me. Of course. I used to call the rubber bandy dealys girls put in their hairs to make pony tails and such "Hair thingys". Zoey's tiny little mouth tried saying the same thing and it came out "Anthonys".

It took two years and a speech therapist to figure this out. In the meantime, I had a couple of really awesome steaks, a lobster tail and two tequila sunrises. J/K. This means "Just Kidding". I hate texting shorthand. Not just because it limits communication, but because I am totally out of the loop.

Hey, I am if nothing else, honest. I've never had a tequila sunrise.


:(  This is a SAD FACE.

New Post

I told my wife that now that I'm a Stay-At-Home-Dad I'm going to blog more often. She pointed out that more often would probably be more than once a week.

I said, "Well, I don't really have anything to write about."

She said, "You can write a blurb. You know, you'd probably get more readers if you posted pictures too. Readers like pictures."

So here's a picture of my coffee mug. I woke up way to early this morning.

Acupuncture Can Cure Anything

Acupuncture can cure anything

This place is next door to Spec’s.

Seriously? Constipation? Now I’m by no means and expert in acupuncture, or even moderately interested honestly, but really?

Constipation?

Where are they sticking those needles anyway?

Pet Peeve #154219503

Ok, I don’t have that many. Maybe we can just call it a serial number. This way we can log it, Google it, and reference it later.  That’s right, people are that interested in my peeves.

Buttons.

Not those squirrely flower shaped ones that don’t fit in button holes on little girls dresses. While I might get a little peeved, they don’t qualify as a pet peeve.

I’m talking technology. Buttons on copier machines, coffee makers, computers and DVD players. You know exactly what I mean.

You push the button. It goes *click*. Nothing happens.

You wonder, “Is it broken? Did it just stop working for no reason? What do I do?”

Well, you do what any normal human being would do. You push it again.

It makes me wonder if the engineers that designed such things do this on purpose. You know the pop-up window that asks, “Are you sure?” Well, you can’t do that with coffee makers. 

Are you sure you wanna make coffee? Click OK again.

I’ve come to the conclusion that people become conditioned to do this. Engineers began this early on. Case in point: elevator buttons.

Bill Engvall uses just such a situation in one of his “Here’s your sign” bits. You push the button. Nothing happens. Of course nothing happens; the elevator car is on its way. You stand and wait. Somebody else comes along thinking about their coffee maker and having to press the button twice to get it to wake up and sees that elevator button lit and you standing their like an idiot. Without even considering the engineering involved and the safety codes the elevator manufacturer, installer, and owner have to continually pass they push the button again. It’s only natural. After all, I had to threaten my DVD player with an uncertain future before it gave up the Red Box movie we watched last night.

And my laptop. I tried turning it on this morning. I pushed the I/O button. I pushed it again. It clicked both times. I gave it moment to think about what it might be doing wrong and let it have one more try. It finally booted up.

I’d compare it to a woman… but I think we all know that that is a slightly different situation.

If they only had a button.

Holy Crap

Ok, so this story begins with me sitting on the toilet. I usually don’t share my toilet stories but in this case, I shall make an exception.

DING DONG

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Of course somebody is at the door. Meh, probably FedEx or something.

DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG

POUND POUND POUND

?

Dammit.

So I prematurely ended my morning constitutional to find out who the hell needed my attention so badly.

DINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONG

POUNDPOUNPOUNDPOUND

I find Zoey looking out the front door. “Who is it Zoey?”

“Our neighbor that buys cat treats wearing the same clothes he always wears but he doesn’t have his dog.” He left before he saw Zoey come to the door.

I grab my keys and am heading to the front door to see if I can catch him. I’m thinking he wasn’t stopping by for cat treats.

Then I hear pounding on the back window. That was fast. Now he’s in the back yard? I push aside the curtains and see some dude looking around. And right behind him is….

The suspense…

Sara.

She woke up while I was in the bathroom and couldn’t find me. She freaked out and started looking for Mommy. She unlocked the door AND LEFT. This guy was driving by and saw a sad little girl sitting in the driveway in a princess nightgown crying for her Mommy. Our next door neighbor happened to step outside (it is garbage day) and saw Some Dude kneeling talking to Sara.

So of course they started pounding on the doors and windows. Thank goodness for good neighbors.

And I have learned a very important lesson today. Deadbolt all doors and hide the keys before taking a shit.