Mr. Sensitive

May 25, 2011

Banana Face

Filed under: Operation Simba — lbej @ 09:34
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I’m not going for it, the decisive Wednesday battle Brinkley wants.  I’m just going to keep changing it up, refusing to let him concentrate his strength anywhere.  He shifts to, I shift away.  I went to the bananas earlier than usual.  It was a tough decision, but you know, they all are.  I had already committed to a bananas attack, but he was really enraged and I can’t have him thrashing around and screaming when the bananas come in.  I decided to lead with a 3 oz bottle and if that put him to sleep, so be it.  The bottle calmed him and I hit him right in the pie-hole with the bananas.  He handled the pie-hole periphery himself.

What does Dre think?  Respect.

I was surprised to discover that if I gave him a wet cloth, he would wipe the food off his own face, and do a cheerful and thorough job of it to boot.  This is more than I’ve managed to instill in Jenny after almost ten years.

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May 20, 2011

Face Shrink

Filed under: Operation Simba — lbej @ 13:50
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I don’t think my mouth or my eyes can get as wide as this, relatively or absolutely:

But even if I could match Brinkley’s wideness, I don’t think I would be as happy about it as he is:

On the other hand, I don’t drool all over my clothes like a mental patient, so that’s one in the win column for Daddy.

August 31, 2010

Comfort

Filed under: Girls — lbej @ 16:50
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Doesn’t matter to some people.

August 30, 2010

Why I Was Right To Destroy That Table

Filed under: House,Stuff I Just Wanted To Say — lbej @ 15:23
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I am sometimes accused of failing to think things through.  This is because I sometimes fail to think things through.  The downfall of the dollhouse table/complex today was not such an instance, however, and I will explain why.

  • The table was structurally unsound.  It was 12 feet long, supported by two spindly legs at each end, and those legs were linked by a single shaft of wood attached to each leg by–I am not kidding–a one-inch dowel and some wood glue.  As a consequence, it fell off every time the table was moved and the result was a balsa wood (again, not kidding) table top that was supporting 100 pounds in its center with no central anchor of any kind.  The legs themselves had been visibly re-nailed on several occasions in an attempt to salvage the structure.  This was a little like putting duct tape on the deck of the Titanic.  When I tried to slide the table at all, the legs on the far end (whichever it happened to be) bowed outward like a door swinging open.  It was when this happened the last time that I made my decision.
  • The table was too big to be moved, and yet people move.  I measured it as five feet by twelve feet; that is ridiculous.  It was also too flimsy to be moved except by professional movers, and I don’t have any of those in my employ.  It was meant to stay in my grandparents’ house and never be moved.  After its third move it was ready to collapse.
  • What was lost, and what the impossible table was necessary to preserve, was the landscaping around the dollhouse.  All of that–the trees, the bushes, the yard works, even the grass–had been blasted away by the moves and my children.  The once-intricate dollhouse complex had been reduced to slabs of plastic screwed to a table and covered in a thin coat of pseudo-moss.  There was no future there, table or no.

So now the table is gone, the dollhouse is mobile and, I believe, salvageable, and the nursery/playroom just added 20% to its square footage.  I was right.  And I only chopped my leg once during the melee.

Look how absurd it was:

And now, perfected:

Give It Back?

Filed under: House — lbej @ 13:48
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In March 1945 Gen. Eisenhower ordered Gen. Patton to bypass the German city of Trier because four divisions would be required to take the city, and Eisenhower didn’t have them to spare.  Patton responded in a telegram thusly:

Have taken Trier with two divisions.  What do you want me to do?  Give it back?

I expect a dressing-down from the Empress for this, but I exercised command as I saw fit given the circumstances.  Trier was there for the taking, and I took it.

The blue thing embedded in the table is my axe, for those who don’t recognize it.  The dollhouse is fine, by the way.  Turns out I can move it by myself after all.

August 29, 2010

If You Were The Worst Dog

Filed under: House,Pet Nasty War,Pets — lbej @ 21:10
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This is the sort of thing you would do to a rug:

Dozens of times.  It will take at least three showers to wash off the experience of rolling up this pee-soaked carpet.  I would be able to focus my powerful hatred on Wilson more consistently if his own self-hatred didn’t ethereally neutralize it.  When I enter a room he’s in I swear I can feel this happen.

August 26, 2010

Operation Dollhouse – Second Day

Filed under: House — lbej @ 16:12
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Reagan’s room is clear except for a dresser, the bed, and of course, the dollhouse.  Here it is from the threshold:

I will probably move this dresser,

complete with Jenny’s labeling victory, into the hall tomorrow, but it would block passage needlessly if moved today.

The dollhouse, while structurally intact,

appears as though it was struck by a hurricane, with everything blow-downable blown down.

The dollhouse is the Maginot Line in my Fall Gelb.  The French High Command believed that the famed line of fortifications was impenetrable and that any direct attack against it would fail.  The German High Command agreed with that assumption, but while the French concluded that an attack would therefore never be made, the Germans concluded more sensibly that the inevitable attack would simply have to fall somewhere else.  Like Guderian and his Panzer Corps, I will simply have to go around the dollhouse.  I don’t care if it ends up exactly where it is so long as I can get the carpet out from under it and a new floor securely in place.  Germany had the Ardennes; I have some felt pads to go underneath the furniture.  I expect just as decisive a victory.

July 30, 2010

Awaiting The Onslaught

Filed under: House — lbej @ 15:07
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Let them come.

Invincible

Filed under: Girls,House,Six Day War — lbej @ 13:40
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I have herded everything that was on the floor, in the couches, and under the couches into the center of the living room.  Here it is:

This is about 10 days worth of Reagan.  It’s just Reagan now, because Jenny never comes out of her room.  Just Reagan.  I work hard at this, I really do.  But she’s just better at bad.  My forebears know this feeling.  It’s like I’m sitting behind the Maginot Line and not only did the Germans outflank me, but they’re in Paris, and they’re dancing with the pretty French ladies, and I didn’t even know the war had started.

July 29, 2010

Jenny Made It

Filed under: Comic Books,Girls — lbej @ 16:42
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Jenny did this sketch for me on one of those do-it-yourself comic covers (Witchblade #32 as it so happens).  I think she was six, so it’s time for her sister to deliver.

That’s the gold standard, Reagan.  Go get it.

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