Silly

My daughter likes to smile, squint one eye in an attempt at a wink, hold out a big thumbs up and roll her stomach muscles.  Seriously.  Picture a four year old girl with pig tails, a dimple and this expression:

Subtract the pointing and add some seriously flexible stomach contortions.

She taught herself the tummy roll after watching Sesame Street where apparently some guest did it, the rest is a bit of a mystery.  She always asks "Why are you laughing Daddy?"  Which of course makes me laugh more.  How the hell can I answer that question?

I've made an effort to always be as complete and honest with her as I can when she asks me questions.  She has a basic understanding of sex for instance.  Not the act, but only because it hasn't come up yet.  It might never, we do live on a farm after all.  But she does know that she grew in Mummy's tummy and that she started out as an egg from Mummy combined with a seed from Daddy.  She also knows when our rooster is doing that to a hen he's trying to give his seed to her.  I guess we will have to have a sex talk at some point, just to make sure that she understands that human sex isn't usually that quick, violent or one sided.  :)

When she asks what things are called I also strive to use the real word even if it's polysyllabic.  You'd be surprised at how fast she picks up even the most complex words.  A four year old's brain has huge portions of it dedicated to language acquisition, might as well take advantage of that while it lasts.

But I am at a loss to explain to her why I find that particular performance so hilarious.  I mean it just IS.  Sometimes the only honest answer is "I don't know."  Of course, it's tricky getting that out when you're snorting soy milk out your nose.

Dennis

I have one really long hair in my right eyebrow.  I mean really long, freaky long, maybe six time the length of my regular eyebrow hairs.  His name is Dennis.  I've been aware of him for a decade now in that vague masculine way:  "Huh, lookit that.  Cool."  After his discovery I never thought about him save when he sat up to take a look around and I had to coax him back into the bushy fold.  Live and let live was my strategy.

My wife and I had been together for a number of years before she notice Dennis.  Her reaction was more like someone discovering proof that the Prime Minister is actually a robot.  Shock, disbelief and an unholy glee that wouldn't let her leave well enough alone.  She badgered me mercilessly. Badgered? Hell, she downright bobcatted me.

"Let me pluck it."

"No."

"Come on....it won't hurt."

"As if. No."

"I'll do [insert dirty act of your choice] if you let me."

"Ha.  You'd do that anyway, it's in our marriage contract.  No."

"If you love me you'd let me."

"Hmmmm, let me think about that......NO!"

She's a persistent woman that wife o' mine, but then, I'm pretty stubborn too.  I fended her off for weeks.  Finally she gave up asking and simply rolled over, grabbed Dennis by his head and yanked him out.  "There, isn't that better?"  "Fuck no! And may I say: OW!" Having accomplished the deed that had been upsetting the balance of the the universe by remaining undone she rolled back and slept the sleep of the righteous.  I grumbled and rubbed my throbbing eyebrow and plotted folliclular revenge, knowing full well that I didn't have the guts to carry out any of my schemes.

Dennis grew back as hairs are wont to do.  Maybe not as proud and thick but just as long.  I've been hiding him from my plucky wife like a drunkard living in a Temperance Hall would his bottle.

You see, Dennis is a part of me.  A tiny part to be sure, perhaps even the most insignificant part, but he's unique and he's mine.  One day soon enough I'll be gone.  My child will remember me and perhaps my grand children will too, if I'm lucky enough to have them.  But that'd be about it.  The memory of me, of all the things that made me unique, will eventually fade from this earth and it'll be as if I never existed.  I'll be damned if I'll let Dennis be repeatedly plucked until he grows no more.  I'll not let him or anything else that makes me unique fade one second before it has to.  I'll fight entropy, yes, and time itself if I must because there ain't no afterlife.  Not for the likes of me and Dennis.

I'm perfectly comfortable with this quixotic battle.

Just don't tell my wife, okay?  Thanks.

Mmmmmm!

I look at what I've written here over the years and I'm not sure I like the portrait it paints of me. For the most part it's pretty humourless stuff. This might be because I use this space to sort out the negative things in my life or it might be because I really don't know how to write humour. Be that as it may here's something that made me laugh this morning. Laugh in that deep and satisfying way were you feel the weight of, well, everything slide off your shoulders.

The LUC brought me some cake yesterday. It was a lovely surprise and I'd planned to take it home and share it with her after work. I forgot it. I called work and asked them to find it and put it in the fridge for me.

This morning I came in and found this next to the "Help Us Find Our Missing Father" poster that we put up for someone last week.

Click on it for a larger image.

Sometimes I really love my employees.