Once again, I bring you another installment of "Backseat Musings," the semi-occasional (if there is such a thing) feature here on NAY. This morning's offering goes as follows:
Thing 2: Ow ow ow ow ow.
Me: What's up, buddy?
Thing 2: I have a cramp in my back. It hurts when I move.
Thing 1: So, pretend you're a mime!
Thing 2: What?
Thing 1: Well, just don't move, like a mime.
Thing 2: Mime's don't just stand still, they do stuff like THIS (waves arms around, trying to get out of an invisible box)
Thing 1: Well, sometimes they just stand there. Hey, you know, if you pretend you're a mime, I might throw you some spare change.
Thing 2: Keep it. The cramp disappeared.
Is it any wonder that I find being a parent generally so enjoyable?
Along a similar vein, I am proud to announce that the Things have turned into quite the Monty Python fans. We watched some random episode Sunday night, and I thought Thing 1 was going to have to be resuscitated. Thing 2 was bobbing in his seat next to me on the couch, wheezing with laughter, but Thing 1 was literally throwing himself around in the recliner, flopping and twisting with glee. I'm pretty sure that this isn't normal behavior, but since it's about all the exercise the boy gets outside of gym class, I'll allow it from time to time.
Heh - wait'll I rent "The Search for the Holy Grail." I'm betting you that for WEEKS afterward there will be recreations of many a scene and recitations of many a funny line or 12.
There was to be a post today about cooking disasters, but I'm running really short on time right now. Let me just say this:
That when, as a 12-year-old child, I decided I wanted to cook tuna casserole for dinner ALL BY MYSELF, someone shoulda told me that the noodles go in BOILING water. Putting them in the cold water and letting them heat up to boiling, sans stirring, didn't go so hot.
Other than that brief foray into total and complete culinary embarrassment, I'm kind of at a loss for disasters, because 1) I'm generally a pretty decent cook (recipe for the world's best mac and cheese is forthcoming), and 2) the only real disasters occurred after maybe I had a little too much to drink, and so don't remember the actual OUTPUT except as the morning remnants of what was left in the pot(s), which, curiously, was usually not a whole lot, being as how all the people I was cooking for were usually pretty smashed too and so ate whatever was put in front of them.
And THAT, my friends, is the way to screw up in the kitchen. Just don't set anything on fire and all will be well. I promise!