The Last Four Days

I blogged about this day already, and I blogged about the next day too, rather jollingly and gentlemanly. But what I didn't get to was --

This week was looking good for me, cause Tuesday we had a short class, and Thursday class was cancelled. So Wednesday was to be my last class of the week.

There wasn't even homework due! So I hung around at home for a while after Megan came home from work, helping out around the house. Lucy was having a bit of a temper tantrum, and it was bad, but with my dada majik I got her to calm down. Then she had food with me and I took BB off mama's hands.

So BB and I are standing in the kitchen, and I hear Megan talking to someone at the front door. It turned out to be our neighbor Jim, who's always spreading the word about burglaries and vandalisms in our neighborhood, which have been on the rise lately. Just last week our neighbor's car was stolen from 12th Ave NE, in front of our houses.

After listening to them talk another minute I glean that something bad has happened, and as Jim leaves I ask Megan if something bad happened to our car, and she tells me then that the window has been broken, but the car seats were still inside. And I've got class in an hour and a half and I'm like, "fuck."

It was scary. I got really nervous. Someone was casing our neighborhood and fucking with our cars. Usually I park the car behind our house. For two days I leave it on 12th and this happens! Stepping outside to survey the damage, I see that there's basically glass everywhere, inside the car and out; a real mess.

I sweep the street amid surges of rush-hour traffic, and try to sweep the inside of the car but little shards of glass keep getting stuck in my hands. So I'm all confused and want Megan's advice; I go inside. She calls our insurance people, who connect us with some glass repair people, and an appt. is made for the next morning.

I went to class, was dog-tired and mentally exhausted, but it ended up being a great class. I learned a lot. Skool rulz. This is my teacher for that class and this is the second class of hers I've taken.

Fast-forward to 11:20 pm, when Megan and I had finished watching some Star Trek: Voyager, got our teeth brushed and were all ready for bed. I check on BB, who had been fussing for a good 10 min. She had puked in her crib.

It was in her hair on the back of her head, on her jammies and the crib. It was a weird half hour after that. I gave BB a bath, and Megan changed her sheets. In the bath, she was too tired to even play with her ducks. She just sat there in the water, kinda slumped forward, probably very confused.

We took care of our kid with tag-team effort and kicked ass, and BB went back to a clean bed, smelling sweet all around.

In the morning, a pleasant young guy named Francisco who works for S

BB pukes up formula in the evening. I'm making Lucy mac n' cheeze and Megan says, "Glenn!?" and I go "What?" and she goes, "Puking baby!"

BB threw up the crackers and formula and breast milk all over the carpet and over Megan's arm, encased in a nice sweater. Half of it got into the puke bowl.

Megan took BB into the bathroom to clean up. I couldn't just stop making Lucy food, so I did double duty and cleaned up the carpet, and burned the butter-cream sauce as Lucy kept asking for like crackers or something. It was a bit of madness. Eventually I finished making the food, which was one of my better mac n' cheez batches. Lucy ate two and a half bowls of the stuff.

As a younger dad, the whole evening might have phased me. But I just kick so much ass that no curve ball my kidz throw at me can phase me, nor be testin me, bestin me, rappin like Wiz Khalifa me.

That evening, Megan and I were wiped. Couldn't even handle making dinner, or going shopping to have the ingredients to do so. Instead I ordered a shitload of food from Romio's and we had a night in, watching Fringe and dorking out and getting fat with greasy pizza and wangs.

This day was a good day. By the end I was exhausted, big surprise. It started with me going to vacuum out the remaining glass shards from the car. Francisco said that he can't guarantee he got every single shard of glass vacuumed up, and that if I wanted to finish the job off, a gas station vacuum would be the way to go cause " ... they're about three times more powerful than the one I've got in my van."

So, I hopped in the car, hoping small shards of glass wouldn't stick in the ass of my pants, get on the couch later on, and cut one of my kids to shreds. First gas station I went to--both vacuums out of order. I drive down to 45th and hit up that Shell station down there. After vacuuming the car, which left plenty of little shards that sparkle from certain angles, but are not going to kill us, I smelled doughnuts.

Like a dog, I start sniffing and turning around and trying to determine the direction. Though it seems unlikely, I walk into the gas station and look around, but I don't see no doughnuts. I ask the worker in there where the smell is coming from, and he laughs and says, "That must be my neighbor."

"Where?" I ask.

He points to the west wall. "Over there."

So I walk out, around the gas station, across an alley, and there's Ly's Doughnuts. They were cheap, and the coffee was awful, but I got to bring doughnuts back to my family. Yum.

After I'd been back home for a while, Megan asks, "So do you wanna take Lucy to the aquarium or something?" I thought about it for 0.68 seconds before the idea seemed totally awesome, and I responded in the affirmative, and then guess waht I did.

Yeah, the aquarium was totally killer, but Lucy is a little too young to get excited about the fish like us grownups do. There was a tank with these amazing, cute, big otters swimming around. In one corner was a pink ball, a toy for the animals, which even they were sick of. They wanted to swim around and live their lives, but all Lucy wanted to look at, point at, and talk about was the pink ball. "Oh, I want to play with that pink ball!"

It's a way for her to have something to talk about with me, and I can understand how that's more exciting to a kid than the big picture. It was a little disappointing that I couldn't share my excitement with her. As my dad said on the phone last night, "She doesn't live in a world where she needs to be excited about nature."

Once my dad took my brother and I to an aquarium in Chicago when we were kids, and I remember him getting infinitely frustrated with us not wanting to look at everything he wanted to point out. So this time, with Lucy, I didn't say "Wow, look at that!" to everything I wanted to show her. I let her choose the path and go at her own pace. A few times I lead her to some sweet animals, like fucking fur seals, those things kick ass.

All in all, we had a good time. I bought her a diver and a submarine toy. We went home happy.

The whole trip reminded me of how timid Lucy is in public, and how sick she must be of being cooped up in the house with her sister and I every day. It's been a hard couple weeks, with her being sick, and BB getting the bug right after Lu got over it. That all amounts to no outside trips. As long as Lucy doesn't get to have friends these days, the less she's going to know about socializing when the time comes for her to be in school.

Our pediatrician strongly recommends day care for Lucy, right now. She's at the perfect age to get out of hte house and start learning to be around other people.

Jeez she just smiled at me and my heart melted. She's getting so smart. Further proof she's ready to get out on her own.

Time to start coordinating day care. Lovely.

Aaaah, come on dad, don't look at it like that. "You fucked a woman and a baby came out. Now you be patient." That's Louis C.K. Words to live by for dads.