Oh The Horror

We are going to write about this incident in the hopes that others can learn from it. We understand the embarrassment that could come along if this is read 10 years from now but we want to make sure that other toilet-training children know what they are in for.

These were the early days of learning to spend time around the house without diapers. They were dangerous days. My sister was more willing to test these waters than I was (the brave soul). One dreary day, while alone with Maman, my sister says she has to use the bathroom. We have a lovely Dora potty (picked up cheap on Facebook, of course) and so she heads over there and sits down to do her business. Like a good girl, she completes her business...and this is where things went wrong.

She decided that she wanted to look...

Daddy still proclaims to this day that he doesn't know why someone would insist on taking a gander at their own 'caca'. Maman usually just rolls her eyes and reminds him that we are 2 years old and that logic doesn't apply here (nor does common decency apparently).

She wanted to look and, after being cleaned up, she turned around and stared into the Dora pot. Almost immediately, you could see the regret spread across her face and she burst into tears. She runs across the floor and throws herself, sobbing, into Maman's arms. Poor thing.

You know how in horror films how we sit there watching someone open a door that 95% of the world knows better than to open. Well that's what happened to me in this situation. I saw my sister's reaction and decided that I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. So I make my way past my mother who is comforting my sister (still wailing) and peer into the Dora pot...

I must have blacked out at that point because the next thing I know, I'm in my mother's arms, right next to my sister and we are both inconsolable.

I can't be sure but I thought for a second that my mother was laughing at us. Of course, that wouldn't make sense in our time of need so I must be mistaken in that recollection.

I guess there is a reason that most people don't stare at freshly dropped deuces. A lesson that my sister and I have both learned...the hard way.

The Neighbouriest Neighbour (part 1)

If only Mr. Rogers lived next door. Our neighbours are...interesting. On the one side is our boy P. P says hi to us and seems to be friendly but also seems to be very...how should we put this...concerned about his finances.

On the other side is, D, one of the strangest dudes we've ever met. Granted, we are just approaching the two-and-a-half year mark of our lives but we like to think of ourselves as somewhat worldly. If you don't want to take our word for it, our Dad thinks he's got some screws loose...

When D wants to talk with us, he usually opens the gate, strolls through our backyard and walks up onto our deck so that he can knock on our glass doors. Not sure what is wrong with our front door but I guess if you are one step away from going postal, people just let you do what you like (Daddy says, "If the psycho dude wants to let himself in so that he can give us a tomato, who am I to correct that type of behaviour?"...We're starting to think Daddy might be a bit of a coward...).

Usually when Mommy bakes things, she'll send a plate over to D's house since he's in his 60's and his mother, who also lives there (another 'indicator'), is in her 80's or 90's. Last year, when Mom left some lemon muffins on his porch, the following conversation was had:

D: You didn't leave those muffins for us did you?
Mom (with big smile): Yes, I did. Did you like them?
D: I hope you didn't make those?
Mom (smile wavers for a second): Yes, I did...
D: Oh, I didn't touch them...they didn't look very appetizing

Who is so socially inept that they say something like that? We've decided that we are on Daddy's side about this one. The crazy socially inept neighbour can knock on whatever door he likes and we won't say a darn thing about it...

And if things go awry one day (if the steps up the back deck are out of service and he just loses it), we want you all to know that we love you (On vous aime :)

But on a serious note...

Daddy's all frowny these days. He says report cards are no laughing matter. Sounds like blogging has to wait until reports are done next week and he's no longer in stinky mood.

Until then, you can read this enormously inappropriate joke...

Dad's Grant Proposal

Daddy says he is applying for a grant from the "gu'ment" (he says he learned that term from reading the facebook pages of morons and "brampton thugs"). We found the folder where he has started collating his data.


My sister and I cautiously opened the folder and quickly realized that it wasn't what we thought it was (like you, we assumed it was going to be a study on rhinoceroses). It is actually a study on horn honking after the light turns green.

Dad says he hopes to use the grant money to conduct a traffic study in order to better understand the psyche of a typical driver in any given area in the GTA. The plan is, whenever Dad is at the front of the line at a red light, wait for the light to turn green and start the stopwatch. He is not going to move until someone honks; at which point he will record the length of time it took from green light to horn and proceed to his destination.

He has a whole section in his folder labeled "Troubleshooting". It's an interesting read to say the least and we have made copies for anyone who is interested (the copy itself is free but shipping is $9.99...we take paypal). This section covers such topics as:

-Reducing bias: where he discusses how he must behave at every light when the light turns green (namely, do not look occupied or busy...just stare straight ahead until the horny people reveal themselves).

-Excessive concern or aggression: where he discusses people who choose to exit their vehicle instead of using their god given car horn (for concern or aggression, he has a baseball bat and a supply of clown horns to throw at the "data")

-Overly patient data: where he discusses his own reaction if he is on a tight timeline and nobody is honking (the appropriate response is: after one full minute of not moving at a green light, put the car in reverse and inch backwards slowly...a horn should come soon. This data will be discarded from the rest of the study but Dad will treat himself to a Blizzard from Dairy Queen for forcing a horn out of someone who so obviously didn't want to use one)

We have our suspicions as to whether or not he will get his grant (especially if he shows the "gu'ment" his 'file').

The Snow Whisperer

Daddy has started whispering to us...constantly. We started whispering back to him but we have grown tiresome of that and started speaking normally again. He continues with the whispering.
To be honest with you, we are starting to suspect that he is doing it on purpose in order to force people to come closer to him (perhaps some sort of attachment disorder??). You see, anyone that is more than 3 feet from him won't hear him so he sidles up close and ends up in these uncomfortably close conversations all day long.
Unbeknownst to everyone around, he has made a seemless transition from a normal person to...a close talker. Needless to say, it is a disturbing turn in our lives. We have a close talker in our midst.



We want to warn everyone...be aware. If you need to hear what he says, you better cozy up.

Attempt #2

Daddy has been badgered/inspired to try again. We won't discuss who did the badgering but part of the inspiration was from here:

Often Funny Vlog - language warning

Daddy says that he has analyzed the failure of attempt #1 and that it comes down to this: the bar had been set too high. He felt that he couldn't sustain the level of humour that was started over the long term. So from this point on, he will attempt to put out regular postings once a week or so (he'll get back into things slowly).

The first posting is already written and just needs some editing so it should be up within a couple of days...

Daddy apologizes for the time off but is hopefully back for a longer while (the last run consisted of 33 posts over 9 months...that comes to 3-4 posts per month...approx. 1-2 per week...hopefully he can pull that off again).

See ya soon :)

Liquid and Viscosity - A Cautionary Tale

Daddy says that science can save us from many things. If we know the science, we can make our choices properly. For example, if we know that gravity will always win, we can avoid standing beneath objects that are perilously placed (like snow on a roof or large rubber balls filled with oil).

Apologies for the audio. It's pretty low here but this is the best clip I could find.



Of course, if we don't know the science involved, then we just have to go on other people's dumb mistakes. Another example, perhaps?

The year is 2006. It is a warm spring evening and Dad our hero is braving the evening alone. The adventure begins several days prior with the tragic breaking of the cord holder on the vacuum cleaner (you know, that piece that you wind the cord around). This has our hero thinking feverishly for a solution...I mean, for god's sake, the cord is just lying on the floor. But then, an idea!




What could he possibly use to fasten this piece back on to the vacuum? Ahh, yes. Crazy glue. Our hero dashes to find the solution to this horrific problem and comes back with a brand new bottle in hand. A couple of warning signs that should have given our hero pause:

1. The tube of glue comes inside another container to ensure minimal contact

2. The warnings on the label state, "If product comes into contact with skin, call local poison control"

But our hero is a brave soul and brazenly opens the outer container.

3. The viscosity of crazy glue is unknown to our protagonist

The inner tube is sealed and must have the cover pierced in order to access the liquid gold that will save us. Luckily, they have provided a "built-in piercer", right in the lid!!! Daddy The bravest soul we've ever known removes the lid and points the 'piercer' up towards the upside-down tube coming towards it.

*A small side note about the viscosity of crazy glue. It is not viscous at all. In fact, it is pretty close to water...it just pours out at a staggering rate*

Upon piercing the upside-down tube, gravity takes over. The liquid gold, quickly evacuates it's tube and covers our hero's left hand (which is holding the lid/piercer). His eyes grow wide with shock at this unexpected turn of events and he quickly drops the lid into the sink and spreads his fingers (my, doesn't he think quickly, after-the-fact). Keeping his calm, he sprints over to the container to find the emergency instructions. He grabs the container with his sticky hand, realizes his mistake and switches hands. He smacks his forehead for being so dumb but also does this with his sticky hand and it doesn't come away so quickly. He manages to pry his hand off his own forehead without any damage and proceeds to read the emergency instructions...
Hmmm, call poison control. Where the heck would one find the number for poison control? With his one good hand, he rushes to the phone books and flips to the first page...what luck!!! All the emergency numbers are right there. The glue has basically set at this point giving him a shiny, thin cast on his left hand. He bangs it on the wall to see how hard his new "cast" is. It isn't hard at all and he has bruised his hand.
Off to the phone!
"Poison control, can I please get your phone number?"
"Yeah, it's 905-460-8888"
"Can you please explain your emergency?"
"I'm dumb"
"What's that?"
"Well, I was working with crazy glue and I have managed to cover my hand with it..."
"You covered your hand?"
"You don't have to say it with that incredulous tone, you know"
"Sorry, sorry. Have you gotten anything stuck? Nothing is touching it and your fingers are apart?"
"No, nothing is stuck"
"We don't really have a solution for that kind of thing."
"Well, I'm glad I phoned, then."
"Somethings that people have suggested in the past include..."

And so our hero turns the tv on with his right hand and sits down to watch. His left hand covered in peanut butter and soaking in a bowl of vegetable oil. In hindsight, he suspects that the glue would have come off just as fast if he sat there and did nothing, but who among us is willing to take that chance?