2007...Final Indignities

Thought I'd try to get one more post in for 2007, you know, just to wrap things up before the new year ('cause I know you were concerned):

Garage Door Opener Installation...

...went off without a hitch. Literally. They didn't include the hitch. So we put it up without one. Seems to work fine without it.

One On One With Aunt Debbie

My sister-in-law is in town for the Holidays, and late last week decided to give each of the girls a one-on-one day with her where they would go and do whatever they wanted. Over the course of those two days Kyra got locked in a gas station bathroom and Kailey made her first visit to a bar where she played pool. Merry Christmas Aunt Debbie. Paybacks are hell.

The Girls are Headed to Disneyland...

...and I'm stuck at home. With Rex, the super-hyper-active-hundred-pound-year-old Golden Retriever. My in-laws are taking my brother-in-law and his family for my nephew's 5th birthday, and the girls are tagging along. We, in turn, get to watch their dog. Oh well, it's the least that we can do seeing as how my father-in-law has spent the past two months breaking his back installing our flagstone patio. Paybacks are hell.

And Finally...

...a sincere wish for a great 2008. Happy New Year!

Attack of the Christmas Eve Vampire Zombie Children

This picture of the girls singing at a Christmas Eve service freaked me out...especially the two girls on the left. Click on the pic for the full Dawn of the Dead effect. The expression on the kid in the lower left is priceless. "Is there something behind me?"

All I (Didn't Necessarily) Want For Christmas

It just wouldn't be Christmas without some stupid crap breaking around my house. Nothing major, mind you, but just enough to be an inconvenience. Life during the Holidays is busy enough without having to engage in unplanned home repairs, but somehow they always seem to worm their way into my schedule. On Christmas morning my Father-in-law noticed that the garage door wouldn't stay shut. He pushed the button to close it, but as soon as it closed it would reverse course and open once again. He pulled out the ladder and gave the unit a small adjustment, and the problem was solved...for the moment.

The day after Christmas I went out to the garage after Diane left for work and noticed the garage door was once again wide open. I closed it and it popped right back up. I had to double click the button for it to stay closed. The girls and I were heading up to Phoenix for the day and I didn't have time to mess with it. When we returned that night, I noticed that not only would the door stay closed, but now it didn't fully open either. I was just barely able to get the van in the garage. So I hopped up on the ladder, gave it another little adjustment, and pressed the button. The door returned to its' full "up" position, problem solved.

Until I closed the garage door. The door closed, and stayed closed. It closed so much that the track that guides the door bowed upward out of position. That can't be good. I pressed the button again to reopen the door and relieve the tension on the track. Nothing. I readjusted the settings on the main unit and pressed the button again. Nothing. I cursed and kicked wildly at the door. Nothing. Finally, I conceded defeat and pulled the red emergence release cord, detaching the door from the opener. I had exhausted the extent of my limited knowledge of garage door openers and would need professional help.

I called the Sears service hotline the next morning. Long story short, repairing the opener would cost nearly as much as replacing it. Just having someone to show up and look at the garage door opener would cost $65. So I dropped $130 on a new garage door opener yesterday morning. Ho Ho Ho. Merry frickin' Christmas to me. Just what I always wanted. Installation will commence Monday morning, and the call to the Sears service/installation department will most likely commence Monday afternoon.

Hiding the Salami

Time to add one more thing to my growing list of concerns regarding raising daughters. Actually, this has been on my list for quite some time, but I was hoping that it was just a phase and that the girls would grow out of it. No such luck. This one has me scared out of my mind and I don't quite know what to do. How do I put this in a way that doesn't sound really bad? I don't think there is one, so here it goes: it seems as though my daughters have an infatuation with seeing male genitalia, and more specifically, my genitalia. I'm completely freaked.

They enjoy playing a game I call "I Saw Your Pee-Pee" where they burst into the bathroom whenever I'm taking a shower or going to the bathroom. I do my best to cover myself, but they still cackle "I SAW YOUR PEE-PEE!" before fleeing the room. This is disturbing on so many levels, not least of which is having your manhood called a "pee-pee". OK, so maybe the water to the shower was still a little nippy when I stepped in. Cut me some slack! Having a female, regardless of age, point at your package and laugh is never a good thing.

Even more disturbing is the fact that one look doesn't send them running for the hills screaming at the top of their lungs and clawing at their eyes. This is the desired response, at least from my point of view. I want them completely disgusted by the mere thought of the opposite sex's member.

Lately I've been ascribing to the "out of sight, out of mind" philosophy. I lock the door while going to the bathroom or taking a shower hoping against hope that if they don't have access to see "it", then they'll forget about "it". I don't think it's working...my philosophy, I mean. This morning I forgot to lock the bathroom door while taking my shower, and in burst Kailey to tell me something about her socks not fitting right. I immediately covered myself and huddled into the corner of the shower. "Does it look like I'm in any position to help you with your socks?" I asked over my shoulder.

"No."

"So where do you think you should go to get new socks?"

"To my drawer?"

"Exactly."

"OK." She turned and started to close the door behind her, then turned back and added, "I saw your pee-pee."

I spent the rest of my shower beating my forehead against the tiled wall. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if she had told me she saw my one-eyed Gila Monster, but I doubt it.

Anticipation

I made it to bed with two minutes to spare, 11:58 pm on Christmas Eve. The day was a busy one full of last minute shopping, cleaning, a Christmas Eve service, and dinner at the in-laws. No sooner had I settled into bed than I heard a shuffling of feet at the bedroom door followed by a loud whisper. "Mom. Mom. I think Santa has been here." Diane had been in bed for at least a half-hour and was totally dead to the world, so I took over.

"Kyra, it's been Christmas for less than five minutes. Santa hasn't had time to come to our house yet. Besides, he won't come until he knows that you're asleep," I lied. It's a good thing Kyra's terrified of the dark, otherwise she would have gone straight to the family room where all of the Christmas goodies waited to be freed from their wrappings.

"Oh," she muttered, "I didn't know that."

I got up, grabbed her hand, and led her back to her bed where I tucked her back in and kissed her goodnight. I returned to my bed and drifted into a contented, though short, winter's nap.

Now Diane may have been blessed with the gift of sleeps, where she can fall asleep in a moment's notice, but I have been blessed with the gift of deep sleeps, where it may take me awhile to fall asleep, but once asleep, I stay asleep. This comes in handy for those middle of the night wake-up calls, when the girls have nightmares or need a drink of water. Diane, being the light sleeper, is pressed into action while I remain blissfully unaware. And asleep. This was the case at around 1:00 am when Kailey wandered into the room wanting to open up presents. Diane corralled her back into bed, and both girls cut us a big break by sleeping in until 7:00. All of us were better rested and able to enjoy a great Christmas day.

I hope you were able to enjoy the same. Merry Belated Christmas.