Busy Weekend

I have had a hell of a busy weekend, so no Sunday night rambling for me. I’m going to get straight to the point. Remember when my daughter smeared shit all over the walls in my house? Well, we’re giving her a chance to do it in a different room. We’re moving her into my six year old’s room, and my six year old will then move into my daughter’s room which he will share with his three year old brother. They may very well never go to sleep again. And although my daughter is twelve, and one would think unlikely to begin smearing shit on things again, parenthood has taught me its core axiom: If it’s going to fuck you up and make your life miserable, kids will do it. But what the fuck, we hadn’t huffed paint fumes in a few years, so we went ahead and started the move.

The first weekend of the reshuffling was devoted to cleaning out the bedrooms and repainting my son’s room from two tone brown with an adorable lamby-wamby motif (my wife’s decision when she was delusional and with-child) to an aquamarine color that blends with my daughter’s bedding. This, as my wife explained to me, is called color coordination, a concept that I am apparently supposed to apply to the clothing that I put on in the morning. Clearly she’s still delusional.

Next weekend we are to paint my daughter’s old room, currently a shade of pink known as Violent Motherfucking Pink, and somehow convert it to colors more suitable to little boys. Frankly, I think that room will always be pink. There is no going back once you paint it the way we did some nine years ago. If we removed the dry wall, threw it into the back yard, tossed it in a dumpster, poured seventy gallons of jet fuel on it and lit it on fire, the fucking ashes would be distinctly pink. But, assuming I am wrong, we’re going to paint it “baseball” colors: Brick Red, Blue Sky, Outfield Wall Green, and we’re not sure about the last color which probably doesn’t matter: They’re just going to use the walls as a convenient place to punch holes and write crude child-like obscenities.

So instead of some inane blather about how many drugs I took in college (lots!), here’s something that will make you feel as if you’ve taken all those drugs at once: Silly shit from Japan! Enjoy.