We have noticed something as of late. Daddy doesn't quite look the same as us. At first we questioned Maman about the odd appearance of Daddy's vagina. Her response was shocking to say the least...it wasn't a vagina at all.
Now we're not completely sure whether or not Daddy is aware of his...issue. We try to discuss it with him...to begin a dialogue so to speak(we do this usually once a day, sometimes twice). He just seems to brush it off as if it's no big deal and he does not want to deal with it. Our daily brief conversation usually goes something like this:
Us: Daddy a un penis
Daddy: Oui
WHAT KIND OF RESPONSE IS THAT??! If I came out and told you that, "by the way, you're different than everyone else" (that we've ever seen), would your response be, "yeah"?
He must be in denial.
That would also explain his reaction when we first became aware of his deformity.
Us: Daddy a un penis
D: Oui
Us: Vois?
D: No
Us: Touche?
D: No
He wasn't even willing to let us confirm what we saw...definitely denial.
So now it has been impressed on us that this "no touching" rule is actually "written in stone". Daddy took his chisel outside and came back holding a rock with "On ne touche pas le penis" carved into it. He says he is going to mount it in our room and the rule applies until we are 25...WTF???
We definitely need to get Daddy some help.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Marriage Tip Number 95...Debunked
While flipping through some of our favourite flyers looking for deals, we came across this ad:
Now, I don't know about you but Barbie better never complain about a damn thing with a hottie like that around (although we thought he should be mildly insulted that he was on for BOGO half price). Now we understand that, when we eventually get into a serious relationship, one of our big rules is: "Don't try to change him" (I mean, it's even marriage tip number 95 HERE...and this apparently mostly applies if you're married to a 1960's aviator??).
My sister and I have discussed it at length and we have decided that Barbie has disproved this little piece of wisdom. We think that "Don't try to change him" is bunk (pardon the strong language). Witness:
This is Ken from 1961 (we know that some of you are judging the author for doing so much research into Ken and we have been told that the author is not ashamed).
In a mere 50 years, Barbie has managed to take this hillbilly (who comes with a shotgun) and turn him into the babe-magnet you see above. We submit to you that there is only one way that Barbie could have accomplished this. A systematic breaking down of his psyche through nagging, subliminal messages during his sleep (as well as possibly some physical torture) and then re-building his mind the way she wanted it...we applaud you Barbie. We hope to follow in your footsteps. Now, the only issue is:
If they guy is going to look the way he does now, we feel that he deserves genitals at this point...I mean, why look and dress like that with no pay off?
Now, I don't know about you but Barbie better never complain about a damn thing with a hottie like that around (although we thought he should be mildly insulted that he was on for BOGO half price). Now we understand that, when we eventually get into a serious relationship, one of our big rules is: "Don't try to change him" (I mean, it's even marriage tip number 95 HERE...and this apparently mostly applies if you're married to a 1960's aviator??).
My sister and I have discussed it at length and we have decided that Barbie has disproved this little piece of wisdom. We think that "Don't try to change him" is bunk (pardon the strong language). Witness:
This is Ken from 1961 (we know that some of you are judging the author for doing so much research into Ken and we have been told that the author is not ashamed).
In a mere 50 years, Barbie has managed to take this hillbilly (who comes with a shotgun) and turn him into the babe-magnet you see above. We submit to you that there is only one way that Barbie could have accomplished this. A systematic breaking down of his psyche through nagging, subliminal messages during his sleep (as well as possibly some physical torture) and then re-building his mind the way she wanted it...we applaud you Barbie. We hope to follow in your footsteps. Now, the only issue is:
If they guy is going to look the way he does now, we feel that he deserves genitals at this point...I mean, why look and dress like that with no pay off?
Sunday, February 6, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, January 31, 2011
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 :)
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
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...
Until then, you can read this enormously inappropriate joke...
Sunday, January 16, 2011
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').
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').
Thursday, January 13, 2011
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
