Ah, youth

Today is one of those days.

TFBIM is up to here with work stuff today and the boys are off for Spring Break today. You know this means a full-blown day of SAHDness. I realize in the blog-o-sphere this is no big deal, but I am a dad and trying to get work-from-home stuff done and entertaining six and seven year olds at the same time is an act of juggling to which I am not yet fully accustomed.

Numbah One Son wants to watch the Golf Channel (which isn't on our satellite system) and I discovered that Numbah Two Son had decided to make the stuffing of ¾ of an Oreos package and a small bag of Lay's potato chips his breakfast. As I took inventory of the contents of our cupboard, I realize Someone Else Has Been Shopping. The shelves of the cupboard and refrigerator now contain things like Jello, Hunt's pudding, Lay's & Fritos, 'Nilla Wafers, Oreos, "Scooby Snacks" and so forth. I am aghast.

I must say that as a child (and now, as an adult) junk food was never a big priority. Cereal doesn't count, because it's fortified with vitamins and minerals. As a consequence, I was pretty easy to babysit. All I needed was a book, and I was set. Of course, all that stuff that I was reading would eventually manifest itself in some of the silly and unusual actions I took while under the care of one of my two sainted grandmothers.

My dad's mom found me stitting on the sink of the bathroom, growling and baring my fangs, contorting and contracting assorted muscles as I was certain lycanthropy was upon me since it was a full moon, and I had a german shepherd dog who'd scratched me a week prior. By age 10, I was a full-fledged idiot. My grandmother (either one), whenever she was in the throes of boredom, would get on the phone and gab with her crone cronies. I took great delight in listening for her and whenever she picked up the phone to dial (she had one of the then-new phones with numbers on the handset, so that she could NOT hear the beep-boop-buup of her dialing) I would lift an extension, add a random digit to the dialing sequence and then sit back and laugh like a maniac as my grandmother and some poor bastard on the other end attempted to sort things out, mostly by my grandmother insisting she had made no mistakes in dialing.

My mom's mom had a penchant for falling asleep in front of the TV and I delighted turning it off and moving up the digital clock from, say, 10pm to 5am. The poor old girl would wake up and on 30 minutes' sleep attempt to start making breakfast from scratch.

Things eventually got dangerous when I took her pressure cooker and used it to distill rum. Ruined a perfectly good pressure cooker in the process, no less. Shortly after that, I discovered girls and, as we all know, the wheels fell off the wagon at that point.

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