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I know, I know, you're all wondering why my annual poll for Kiki's costume has not appeared. I do apologize, but let me explain. Em and I did discuss many ideas for Kiki this year: ninja, pirate, superhero, maybe, you know, ninja pirate hero. And yes, we do realize she is a girl.
Anyway, maybe because they knew us and could predict that we would come up with a terrible idea, both her Aunt and her Godfather gave us costumes. Thus, already having two awesome costumes, we thought it would be excessive to have a poll for a third costume, especially since our ideas were so crap compared to the gifted costumes. So, this year Kiki's costume will not be subject to the democratic process. But do not worry dear reader, next year the poll will come again, and yes, pirate ninja hero is going to be on there! Unless, you know, Kiki has other ideas, but I'm sure she'd like to give over control of her outfit to the general internet populace, right?
Well, Kiki has been talking for a while now and is entering that wonderful "sponge" stage, where she will oftentimes repeat a word after only hearing it once or twice, especially useful words like "aubergine" and "phospholipid bilayer." However, it has required my wife and I to severely curtain our cursing, which has been more of a fucking problem than I ever expected. Unfortunately, Kiki's mispronunciation of many words already sound like cursing, for example "Sit" becomes "Shit," "Gray" becomes "Gay," and "Milk" becomes "Dickface"... alright, so maybe we can't blame all of it on her poor diction. But fucking hell, it's goddamn hard to control this shit. But hey, she's cute enough I figure she can get away with cursing like a drunken sailor. I mean, that's a good parenting approach, right?
No? Well, fuck.
Well, our darling daughter, being a prodigy, decided to get a head start on the "terrible twos." She has become a master of tantrums, pouting, and general insanity. Yeah, we couldn't be more proud.
Particularly when she decides to exert her newfound independence in public. Like when she absolutely refuses to be put in her car seat, mainly by going alternately rigid and limp, thereby jackknifing her body out of the seat and into the footwell. Or when she runs off in the grocery, grabbing things and then flipping out if you take it away, because obviously she HAD to have the pickled onions she happened to pull off the shelf. And of course she complements all these fits of pique with wailing, crying, and her new favorite, stomping around. If it wasn't so damn funny it could be annoying. Of course, our laughing only makes matters worse.
But seriously, when you watch your daughter slide into the footwell for the third time in a row, screaming in a pitch and volume last experienced in a Guns N' Roses concert and blowing snot bubbles from her nose, what else can you do but laugh? Well, that and call to schedule your vasectomy.
Well, I've discovered it. A fail-safe, simple, cheap, and easy guide to happiness. Yes, with $3.00 and three easy steps you too can enjoy total joy on a daily basis.
Step 1) Come home. Okay, for this step you need a home. But really, if you're reading this chances are you have a computer (unless you are reading this psychically, in which case nice work), and if you have a computer then you should have a home. Thus, by my accounting, this step costs nothing. If, however, you are homeless than I am sorry for you, I wish you the best of luck, but think it is going to take more than three steps to fix your situation. Probably more like six or seven steps, and that's just beyond the scope of this simple little blog.
Step 2) Have your wife and 18 month old daughter waiting outside for you. Okay, maybe you don't have a wife, but a girlfriend, husband, boyfriend, platonic life partner, or even friendly stranger should work. Ah, now you say you don't have an 18 month old daughter. How about a son? No? Hmmm, what about a very personable dog? Nope, not that either? A cat? Even a very vivacious fish? Nothing? Hmm, alright, steal a kid. Look, it's totally worth it, this is going to work out for you. But I don't mean steal in a terrible abduction/ kidnapping kind of way, just borrow them for an hour or so, you know, like a library book... that talks.
Step 3) Have them blowing bubbles. Then, join them. It's amazing, all your stress and worries will be born away on the eddies of air along with those little soap bubbles. It's helpful if your stolen child can say "bubbuls" continuously, ideally with a slight lifting in tone at the end. It's kind of awesome. Oh, and for the record, buy your $3.00 worth of bubbles from Gymboree, they are made of some sort of NASA engineered polymer, we've found them literally two days later still intact.
