Do. Doo.
DoDoDoDo. Doo.
DoDoDoDo. Doo.
Do. Do. Do. Doo.
WT?
And then it strikes me.
My Budding Percussionist playing the Star Wars theme on bells.
You know the bells?
It’s what my Young John Williams' band teacher calls a xylophone, so he can justify making us pay big bucks to rent an instrument whose primary purpose is to give Kindergarten teachers a word that starts with an X.
People south of the border call them marimbas, jazz musicians call them the vibraphone, and the Germans, because they always have to make things more difficult, call them the glockenspiel.
Then Young Lionel Hampton breaks into The Lion Sleeps Tonight, which is only made worse by daughter entering the room and picking up on vocals.
One thing they don't tell you about the Harried with Children Life: After the crawling stage, the walking stage and the No stage, there's the singing stage. She sings it not once, not twice, but twelve and a half times until…
"ENOUGH," I scream. “STOP! You're both grounded to the basement!"
The children stare at me in disbelief.
Spouse comes running into the room. “I'll take them downstairs."
He escorts Ten-Year Old, who jumps up on dad and puts him in a choke-hold. Oh yes, the WWE stage. Bet Dr. T. Berry Brazelton forgot to mention that one.
"Thanks,” I say closing the door. Back to work:
Work.
Writing a blog is work. No only are the conditions, well, loud, there’s the pressure to please the audience.
I start and stop the post twelve and a half times. I consider ripping off another Sarah Palin video and embedding it. And then I start again. Then I stop.
Then I watch that little computer guy in the pop out window.
Then I check the weather.
And then the TV listings.
And then I start reading an article about this
on Uncyclopedia when out of the corner of my eye I see Young Undertaker, having escaped from the basement, is standing at the door.
Damn. I always tell Brad to do head counts.
"Hi, honey. What are you doing up here?"
"Are you finished writing, Mom?"
"Well, almost."
"Did you write a story?"
"No, it wasn't a story."
"What is it?"
"Well, it's kind of like a story, I guess."
"Is there a ship in it?" He says.
"No. No ship."
"A pirate?" We’ve been reading Peter and the Star Catcher together and it’s only taken me until page 201 to figure out it’s the Peter Pan story.
"No. No pirate."
"Have you ever written a story about a pirate? Says Young Treasure Hunter.
"No, honey, I haven't." I don't mention the Xylophone-rated story I've created in head my about a particular pirate.
"You never wrote a story about a pirate?"
"Never."
"You're a writer and you've never written about a pirate?"
God, even my son thinks I suck.
Then Young Lionel Hampton breaks into The Lion Sleeps Tonight, which is only made worse by daughter entering the room and picking up on vocals.
One thing they don't tell you about the Harried with Children Life: After the crawling stage, the walking stage and the No stage, there's the singing stage. She sings it not once, not twice, but twelve and a half times until…
"ENOUGH," I scream. “STOP! You're both grounded to the basement!"
The children stare at me in disbelief.
Spouse comes running into the room. “I'll take them downstairs."
He escorts Ten-Year Old, who jumps up on dad and puts him in a choke-hold. Oh yes, the WWE stage. Bet Dr. T. Berry Brazelton forgot to mention that one.
"Thanks,” I say closing the door. Back to work:
Work.
Writing a blog is work. No only are the conditions, well, loud, there’s the pressure to please the audience.
I start and stop the post twelve and a half times. I consider ripping off another Sarah Palin video and embedding it. And then I start again. Then I stop.
Then I watch that little computer guy in the pop out window.
Then I check the weather.
And then the TV listings.
And then I start reading an article about this
on Uncyclopedia when out of the corner of my eye I see Young Undertaker, having escaped from the basement, is standing at the door.
Damn. I always tell Brad to do head counts.
"Hi, honey. What are you doing up here?"
"Are you finished writing, Mom?"
"Well, almost."
"Did you write a story?"
"No, it wasn't a story."
"What is it?"
"Well, it's kind of like a story, I guess."
"Is there a ship in it?" He says.
"No. No ship."
"A pirate?" We’ve been reading Peter and the Star Catcher together and it’s only taken me until page 201 to figure out it’s the Peter Pan story.
"No. No pirate."
"Have you ever written a story about a pirate? Says Young Treasure Hunter.
"No, honey, I haven't." I don't mention the Xylophone-rated story I've created in head my about a particular pirate.
"You never wrote a story about a pirate?"
"Never."
"You're a writer and you've never written about a pirate?"
God, even my son thinks I suck.
But hey, somebody loves me. Thanks to Chris at Chris Wood's Blog for this lovely honor. It came at the right time.
There are more great blogs to get hooked on at Humor-Blogs.
15 comments:
Congrats on your award! And yes, that pirate is definitely fantasy-worthy.
I've had some serious writer's block myself lately, so I took the easy way out and posted a Palin video yesterday. I'm shameless!
Ha. Jeebusaurus Rex. I like it. Maybe you could have told your little minon, "No, no pirate stories, but I am a Blarrrrrrger."
Okay, maybe not. Cheers!!
I have you in my reader and I only read the best--so there! Congrats :)
I've busted a couple wrestling-themed posts simply because that's the phase we've been entrenched in for the past year. My kids know stats for all WWE wrestlers, but they can't remember to brush their teeth every day. I feel your pain.
I honestly don't know how you manage the writing, given the distractions in the form of question-asking little people with peanut-buttery hands and faces. :)
PS- Thank you for the gratuitous Jack Sparrow photo. I mean, honestly, now I'm so merrily distracted, I no longer have the Star Wars theme on marimba running through my head.
Meg: That picture of your son looks like he's one tough little dude. ;) I don't think I'd want to mess with him. No thank you.
Even when you get writer's block, you're funny. When I get writer's block, I just don't write. :)
Jen- Sarah Palin. I mean, funny is funny, right?
Matt-Man - Yes. Fabulous site. Very informative.
PaperCages - Thanks so much. You have exceptional tastes.
FADKOG - What would our lives be like without Friday Night Smackdown? Wait. Don't answer that.
Jenn - Yes, I think that Star Wars theme is a Russian plot to drive us crazy.
Unfinished - Oh, so you're saying I'm good at blogging about nothing. Thank you. I'm passing the award to you--3rd time's a charm!!!
mommy is WORKING, i said.
that's not working mom, that's playing on the computer.
you are right, Obi, you are very right.
now go watch teevee.
I prefer the name--vibraphone. at least that sounds like something vibrating for my enjoyment. ;)
Ms. Picket - Yes, TV for kids. Where would we bloggers be without it?
Chat Blanc - Hmm. Never thought of it that way. I like it!
Very glad to give it to your deserving self.
Your son's right - you've never written a story about a pirate, neither have I and frankly ... what the hell have we been doing with our time then?
I want a basement! A soundproof one please! I only have the backyard to exile mine to, and with winter coming, that's not going to last long.
As for the Jesusaurus rex? Why the bloody h*ll can't I come up with sh*t like that! That is entirely to awesome!
Ive beeb waiting for the pirate story. What no? Im leaving!
Chris - We've obviously missed the boat. I mean the plank.
JT - Basements are great for kids and for hanging out during a tornado warning. But they are known for filling up with water during a storm.
Suzie - Like I said, my story (with a particular pirate) is particularly private.
You're doing your job if your son doesn't get you. I think you're cool! That's all that matters, right? (I hear there's no script yet for Pirates 4...)
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