Archive for September, 2001

Can I be indisposed in private, please?

Published
by
Scott Cramer
on September 8, 2001
in Everything Else
. 0 Comments

I was, shall we say, indisposed, when I heard my wife call from the other room asking if I had gone to bed.

“No,” I replied. “I’m indisposed.”

“Oh, I thought I heard you in the bedroom.”

“No, I’m indisposed.” By this point, it was starting to sound odd every time I said it. IN DIS POSED. IN DISP OSED. INDA SPOSED.

Oh hell. “I’m in the bathroom!” I yelled.

“What are you reading?” she asked.

“Umm… I’m - in - the - bathroom.”

“Yes,” she said, “I know. You’re ‘indisposed’ in ‘da library.” My wife has a habit of being annoyingly cute.

“Blah Blah.” Okay, I didn’t reply with “blah blah” but I’m withholding the author and title to avoid even the one in one-billion chance they find out where I read their book. How embarrasing would that be?

“Hello Mr. So-and-so… fancy running into you at the local Qwik-E-Mart!”

“Oh, why aren’t you the fellow I read about on the web who finished my book while indisposed?”

I don’t play the lottery, but I worry about stuff like that. For those of you that are still with me, back to the tale at hand. Now where was I? Oh yes, indisposed (like you shouldn’t have seen that coming).

My wife, seemingly having nothing to say about my choice of reading material says, “I psychically sent you in there anyway.”

Annoyingly cute sometimes turns into just plain weird. I refrain from further comment because she wasn’t like that when I married her so any comments may be held against me some day when it’s proven how this behaviour is somehow a result of her exposure to me. It’s a safe bet. You learn a lot about safe bets after you’ve been married a few years.

“Okay, umm, thanks.” Smile and nod. Smile and nod. Then, “You must have psychically told my brain to make me come in here, but can you psychically tell my [expletive for hind quarters deleted] to get the show on the road so I can get out of here.”

She replies, “You’re weird.”

Suddenly, me, the psychically induced indisposed interrupted reader is the one that’s weird!

“Okay, umm, thanks.” Smile and nod. Smile and nod and shut up.

Next house - soundproof bathroom.

Dad feeds baby

Published
by
Scott Cramer
on September 6, 2001
in Everything Else
. 0 Comments

Mr. Mom takes care of 15-month old daughter - Scene One:

(wife) “You fed her plums!?”

(me) “What!? It was in the cabinet!”

(wife) “There’s all kinds of fruits in the cabinet! You chose plums!?”

(me) “It was a dark color. I got bored with all the other ones.”

(wife) “You’re choosing by color?”

(me) “Umm… It’s not like it was prunes or anything! Geez.”

[for the adolescent-challenged, certain fruits process rapidly through the baby digestive system, exiting unpleasantly along with anything else inside ready to be expelled]

(wife) !

(me) “Oh, yeah…”

[note for any other Mr. Mom’s - prunes gotta come from somewhere… doh!]

(wife) “Prunes (Plums) - Unplug. Bananas - Plug.”

(me) “You really ought to color code these things! A little brown sticker on all the “unpluggables” would help!”

(me) “Get it? Brown sticker… Ha!”

(me) “Hey, where ‘ya going??? Hey, come back!”

(me) “Umm… If it’s the sticker thing, we can use markers……..”

Garbage Phone Call

Published
by
Scott Cramer
on September 3, 2001
in Everything Else
. 0 Comments

Things you don’t want to hear…

“I was taking out the garbage and I remembered I wanted to call you.”

Thanks Mom!

The people who make a difference are the ones who get bored.

Published
by
Scott Cramer
on September 2, 2001
in Everything Else
. 0 Comments

The people who make a difference are the ones who get bored. - Brian Eno

I imagine it’s like the metamorphosis of a caterpillar into a butterfly. Bear with me… You’re all happy being a caterpillar, walking around and eating leaves. Watching out for birds, hanging out with non-threatening bugs, doin’ your caterpillar thing. After a while you don’t feel too right with the way the world is and you wall yourself up from it, watching from the inside as all the other caterpillars breeze on by, eating the leaves you used to munch on, running from the birds you used to hide from, hanging with your old non-threatening bug-friends. You just don’t belong anymore. You’ve got a grander vision. You’ve changed. You tear down the wall and discover that you’re no longer tied down to the leafy stems. You’ve traded earthly legs for colorful airy wings.

You fly away, thumbing your butterfly nose at the blissfully ignorant crowd below you - still munching away on their mundane earthbound leaves. Poor fools.

And you’re snatched out of the air by a rather large bird and swallowed whole.

I want to tag a little bit on to Mr. Eno’s quote at the top of the page.

The people who make a difference are the ones who get bored - without falling prey to laziness and arrogance.

Half-Popped Popcorn and Chunky Milk

Published
by
Scott Cramer
on September 1, 2001
in Everything Else
. 1 Comment

Just when you think you’ve seen everything in the grocery…

Half-popped popcorn kernals. In a can. Factory-sealed fresh.

You know the kernels in your microwave bag that didn’t quite have enough oomph to pop out of the popcorn shell and were kind of half shell with a little popcorn whiteness peaking out. The ones (most of us) left in the bottom of the bag… Now it’s a luxury snack product.

What’s next? Bag-o-crushed-chips? That congealed layer on top of home-made pudding when you get it out of the fridge - New pudding skins, “Just like Mom’s!”?

Wait! I’ve got it! Chunky-style Milk! Mmm…

I think I’ll stick with my sugar-coma breakfast cereals. Of course… if they were to put celebrity movie magnets with every carton of Chunky-style Milk………