Hey! Where ya goin' Dad? Huh? Where?

I can’t go anywhere without someone checking up on me. Someone roughly six to nine years old. If I go from one room to another, immediately I hear (even if I haven’t seen a child in hours) “Where ya goin’ Dad? Whatcha gonna do?” Like I do so many interesting things a day. Usually it’s to get a drink of water, or find the glue for a household repair (Is it put away where it goes? Ha! That is to laugh!), or to check as see what the cat is puking on now. You know, the usual fun stuff.

I guess, conceivably, I could, for no reason and without warning, decide to hop in the car and go to Chicago for a hot dog, leaving my progeny to fend for themselves for ten hours or so. Well, probably less than ten hours because the Little Woman should be home from work before that. So I could just duct tape the kids to chairs (just one chair per child since they’re just little) in the middle of their rooms so they couldn’t hurt themselves and take off. Who would know? What bad could happen?

But it’s not like I’d ever do it. I mean I’ve never even thought of it before. It took me a long time to come up with that scenario for example purposes. Really. (As far as you know.)

But every time I make a move, sometimes I don’t even have to get out of my chair, just stir a little and I get the Third Degree on my intentions. And if I have to go out to the garage, well then it’s not just “Where are you going?” but “What are you bring me back?” (I’m going out to the garage and I’ll bring you back a toilet plunger.)

Martha Stewart shouldn’t have had an electronic tracker strapped to her ankle. She should have been issued a seven year old child. She wouldn’t be able to get anywhere. And you can’t go on the Internet to find out how to remove a kid. Trust me, I know. And the idea of Martha Stewart having to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every day for lunch and then play round after round of Crazy Eights just cracks me up.

So this weekend I had to actually leave the house. Let the interrogations begin!
“Where ya goin’?”
“To the farmer supply store.”
“Why? Whatcha gonna get there?”

Now I could have just said I was going to the farmer supply store to get a new pair of wellies since my last pair I got from Wal-Mart didn’t meet my stringent needs for reliability. It’s like the Chinese slave labor had no real desire for Quality Control in the rubber boot department. I, theoretically, could have said that. Maybe I should have said that. But I didn’t want to. And it wasn’t my fault. This is why:
I went downstairs to find the yellow pages.
“Where ya goin’?”
“Downstairs to get the yellow pages so…”
“Why ya need the yellow pages?”
“So I can look up a farmer supply store because…”
“Why you need to know where a farmer supply store is?”
“Because I need a new pair of wellies because…”
“Why do you need a new pair of wellies? You have a pair of wellies!”
“Yes, I know. I need a new pair because my old pair isn’t holding up very well.”

I found the farmer supply store in the yellow pages. Finally. Actually I had to look in the white pages part of the yellow pages because I looked under “Farm Supply” and found nothing and I looked up under “Tractor” and found nothing and I gave up and tried to think what the farmer supply store was called and could think of “Big Blue” and “TS (something, which turned out to be “R”)” so I looked in the white pages part of the yellow pages under “B” and found nothing and then looked under “T” and found what I was looking for. But I still wasn’t sure just where the store was. So I had to get a local map.

“Where ya goin’?”
“To find the map so…”
“Why ya need the map?”
“So I can find where the farmer supply store is.”
“Why what?”
“Why do you have to know where the farmer supply store is?”
“So I can go look for a new pair of wellies.”
“Why do you need a new pair of wellies? You have a pair of wellies!”

So now I have to go put on my shoes and get my wallet and my car keys. It’s obvious I’m going on a long trip far away.

“Where ya goin’?”
“To the farmer supply store.”
“Huh? A goat? Does Mom know? What kind of goat?”
“I don’t know yet. I have to go see what kind of goats they have. I probably won’t get a goat now since they go on sale in the spring, but I’m thinking of one of those little goats like they have at the zoo.”
“Can I go? To help you pick out a goat?”
“Yeah sure. But remember, we’re not buying a goat today.”
“Oh… Can we buy a chicken? I’d like a chicken!”
“No we can’t get a chicken. I don’t even know if they have chickens. And chickens are dangerous, they’ll peck your eyes out, man.”
“No it won’t. I’d get a nice chicken.”
“But why do we need a chicken? It’s not like we have ticks”
“Yeah, if you have ticks in your yard the chicken will eat them.”
"Yeah. Since we don’t have ticks, why would we need a chicken?“"For the eggs.”
“We get our eggs at the store.”
“Oh yeah. So no chicken?”
“No. No chicken. Your Mom wouldn’t let you have a chicken anyway.”
“Yeah, I guess…”
“So are you coming? Hurry up and get your shoes on so we can go.”
“No, that’s OK.” (I mean, I’m not getting a goat right away, he can’t get a chicken and he’d have to put his shoes on. Why would he want to come along?)

So I went to the farmer supply store and got myself a new pair of wellies. A real nice pair. Easily twice, no three times as good as my old Wal-Mart pair. And these boots were made in America by proud United Statesian bootmakers.

Plus I have my eye on a nice goat for this spring.

Good thoughts and wishes to our Puggy and Mr. Anachi.

Trying to find what the cat puked on is a big adventure around here as well. Many is the day when I am busy doing something in one room (and often something involving a child, too) when I hear the cat vomiting in another room. The cat does not vomit quietly. However, when I go to do the search, I can’t always locate the spot where she has done her (noisy) business. Nothing worse than knowing the cat puked but now knowing where .

Oh, wait, there’s plenty worse than that. For example, not knowing that the cat puked, and stepping in it. In bare feet. First thing in the morning, before I’ve even had my coffee.

Yup, that’s worse.

And my older child seems to have a fascination with the cat vomit, too. Actually, she’s at the age where bodily functions both fascinate and repel her. So, she’ll want to see where the cat “spit up”, as she calls it, but the sight of it will make her start gagging. I tell her not to look, but she doesn’t listen. She stands there, staring, and gagging, eyes watering—the whole thing.

So, if the little girl vomited upon the spot where the cat did as well, well, I guess that would be worse, too.

Wow, life could be a lot worse.

We had some goats when I was a kid. They managed to escape from the fenced in area and disappeared.

Wow, I must be here early if there’re only a couple posts to the MMP!

Anyway, I had a great weekend kayaking, although my arms are a little sore this morning. But it was lots of fun and I can now get from point A to point B, albeit with a lot of zigging and zagging in between. It was just a beautiful place too.

**KeithT **and I are now planning a kayaking trip up in the Adirondacks as soon as possible (probably next year once he’s done with school). It’s so cool to be with a guy who actually wants to go out and do things like that. And maybe we’ll stop on a secluded island with a picnic and a blanket and then… well, use your imagination. :smiley:

I had to take one of my kitties to the vet this morning. He’s losing weight despite eating everything in site. Poor kitty. :frowning:

Hi, everybody!

Any news from Tupug? I see in last week’s MMP that he did check in (he is a he, right?) but nothing since.

Taxi, glad you had a good time!

Rue, at least they’re still at the age where they’re *asking * you things! A couple more years and it’ll be “Oh, Daddy, you’re so old-fashioned!”

Let’s see, three posts in and we’ve had goats, chickens and cat puke. This week’s MMP is off to a rousing start! Rue you forgot about searching for Brody poop and pee. And since he’s a puppy I imagine there’s a fair amount of puppy puke to check up on as well. Plus, knowing you, you probably have a stash of good cookies and candy that the boys are pretty sure they know about but haven’t caught you with it yet. Boys know these things.

Homebrew! You reupped! YAY! Maybe you should get some more goats. Ginger might like some company. I never had any goats of my own. The only goats I got to be around were on my uncle’s farm where I’d go hang out with my only cousin my own age. There was one goat named Jerry. Jerry had it in for me. He’d take any opportunity to butt me. The other goats were nice. Even Joey the bull was nice. For a bull, that is.

Prayers, good vibes and good thoughts going out to Puggy and Mr. Anachi. I hope Puggy can update us from time to time. For those not aware, Mr. Anachi had a massive heart attack on Saturday. Puggy put some details in a post yesterday to last week’s MMP.

okay, I thought I had pretty much figured out what the abbreviations and inside jokes meant… but what, pray tell, is an MMP?

mundane morning post?
my morning post?

or am I totally off-base?

Monday morning post?

mundane Monday post?

I just figured out that it’s weekly, so it’s gotta have a “Monday” in it somewhere

First, and most important - prayers & hugs for the Anachi’s.

Second - I am so glad that this week’s MMP included references to cat puke. Although I am not too fond of cat puke (and I am highly experienced with it, given my cats’ prodigious output of it), it does give me an excuse to show my Evil Cats! . Their eyes don’t normally show their evilness, though. Actually, I kid - my cats are very sweet. And affectionate. Especially when I get out my laptop. That’s the equivalent of the bat signal to them. “Laptop is out - time to go to work! On the lap - NOW,NOW,NOW! No - she must not be allowed to work!” Oh - Jody is the one in front, Sunshine is in back. They do look very similar, but if you were to see them in real life you could easily tell the difference. Jody is the fat one, and Sunshine is the one with shaved patches (but the hair is growing back!).

Actually, the picture is just an excuse to talk about my new toy. Yup - I bought a new digital camera on Friday! See, I got a commendation at work for the work on this project I had done - at work. Just wanted to put a lot of work into that last sentence. Anyway, the commendation came with a cash prize - and that money went to a new camera! It’s amazing though - my first digital camera was a Christmas gift from years ago, and at the time it was $600, and could hold a max of 64 pictures. Now the cameras are the size of fleas, and can hold bajillions. Technology is a wonderful thing.


Someone got your goat, huh?

Maybe it was EllaBean, since she’s (hope I got that right) a newbie. Probably was a forward thinker, and wanted to provide her own goat for the initiation.

MMP is officially the Monday Morning Post by Rue, although your alternates are mostly true anyway. The thread exists to be hijacked repeatedly and often.

Someone or perhaps something

Surprisingly Swampy, Brody isn’t much the puker. He started heaving yesterday, but I was in the room with him and could Take Steps swiftly. “Steps” were pretty much getting him off the new carpet and chucking him in the kitchen while I put on my (old) wellies. I got one boot on and it looked like things were “coming to a head” so I held the little guy over the trash can. Nothing came of it and he kept heaving and heaving, so I got my other boot on and took him outside. There was more heaving and heaving and heaving. “Gracious!” I thought. “This is going to be a big one!”

Then he burped. Not even much of a burp. And he was better.

And we have baby gates up all over the house to contain any puppy indescretions. We don’t have to hunt long if we suspect something.

We have inside jokes? I hadn’t noticed.

None of us seem to be able to hold much inside. These are outside jokes.

Skippy, that made me <snerk>

Good thoughts to **Puggy ** and her husband.

I’m so sorry to hear about Mr. Anachi. My thoughts and prayers are with both Puggy and Mr. Anachi.

Just thought that I’d get in a reply before I went to work. I’m slightly sad because I went over my limit on my credit card. I needed cash, and I have a PIN for it to get money at ATMs, and I was willing to pay the higher “cash advance rate” for it. I got charged a service fee equal to the amount of money that I got out. Oh well.

Prayers for Mr. and Mrs. Puggy. Thank you for letting us know, and keep us updated if you can. Lots of hugs.

Rue, this is one of many, many times that you’ve made me seriously reconsider the parenting gig. Maybe we’ll just rent kids.

susan, your cats look like bigger, more evil versions of my Aerin.

Oh, and sorry to spoil the **BIG KNITTING STORYLINE ** in the new Harry Potter. I mean, why else would one read these books? What could be more exciting than knitting? Except for statistics…

(Okay, knitting is mentioned twice in the book, both times incidentally–but if you are a knitter, it is still exciting.)

Swampy, if you think knitting is boring, you haven’s seen my stuff.. No, I did not knit the ferrets…but I could have.

wow, Merrily!

I’m guessing you already know this, but those are REALLY REALLY SUPER NEAT!

(I learned to knit in December and don’t have the attention span to do it too often, but I love looking at groovy knitting stuff)