Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Strange People Down The Hall

Well, I'm a week late, but I have a draft of the script on paper. The bad news is that this makes the paper slightly less valuable than it was when I brought it home from office depot. The good news is there should be less to interrupt our ongoing communication in the future.

We got you guys checked out yesterday, and aside from the fact that you appear locked in some sort of epic yoga/wrestling battle with one another, all appears well. You just need to get your feet out of one another's ears.

I guess the big news is that we're looking at getting an au pair to help us wrangle you two. We knew we'd have to have help in order for you mom to keep working and me to keep defacing blank paper, and since we got no bites on our 45 cent per hour offer we had to look at other options. Basically, someone from another country who's anxious to see our little part of America will live here and take some number of classes, and then be able to help out part time to keep the rest of us employed. It's kind of like a foreign exchange program but with screaming children.

Your mom was a little weirded out at first about the idea of having someone live with us. For me this was not a problem. When I was young my dad and stepmom sort of had a habit of collecting people who were down on their luck and letting them stay for 'a few weeks' until things turned around. Those weeks tended to run into years, so it always just seemed normal that there would be a strange person down the hall. I mean strange in nicest possible way, but I still mean it.

If it weren't for Crazy Dick I would probably know almost nothing about handguns or mustaches, two disciplines that are all but ignored in today's 'teach to the test' environment. British Brian taught me to make a white russian, a skill no ten year old should be without, and got me in the habit of speaking with an annoying accent, something every person I've met since would probably love to talk to him about. Navy Tom, god love him, taught me to be a patient listener. I think he's probably still telling a story that began in 1987. I think he wants to stop, he just doesn't know how.

I cannot guarantee that the person who comes to stay with us will know anything about mustaches, guns, bar tending, or the Navy, but I've certainly put in the request. Failing those things it would be nice if they knew French so they could fill in the vast holes in the version you'll be getting from me. Failing all that, I'll settle for someone with a simple burning passion for diapers.

Novel - waiting for the script draft to be torn to shreds by readers
Dunking - could not walk after first workout of new program. unclear if that's a good or bad sign
French - Il y a un Russian Blanche

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