What an effing meal from H壣!

We four (Spawn, Daughter-unit Alpha, Daughter-unit Beta and me)
went to a local pizza joint -- SWMBO was out wit' Da Grrlz --
since we'd had such a Smirfy day all day long.

We placed our order. We sat down. I asked everyone at our table
what they'd like to drink. I ask D-uA to get the shakers of cheese
and pepper flakes. I asked (politely) for everyone to remain on
their best behavior while I was at the soda station. Nodded heads
and proper mumbling faked me out.

I turned, and with D-uA steered to the condiment collection, and
proceeded to fill the glasses from the self-serve soda fountain.
I'm unfortunately not as skilled as I once was carrying fill
beverage glasses, and since spilling isn't just for kids anymore,
I've learned that multiple trips save on my embarrassment.

I turned away from the soda station to see D-uB creating a snow
scene that the Ice Queen would've been proud of. "What are you
doing?" I whispered into her ear as I got back to the table. She
jumped, scattering more cheese. "Do you play like this at home?" I
asked again.

"No, Daddy."

"Then why do I have to remind you that you don't here?"

"I dunno..."

"Go up to the counter. Ask for a towel and basin. You will clean
up this mess."

"Yes, Daddy."

I turned on my two remaining daughters-units, "Don't play with the
cheese. You don't at home. You don't when we go out. Was that
clear?" Nods of affirmation. D-uB came back with a towel and small
bowl and proceeds to clean up her blizzard of green-boxed
gratings.

"Don't play with the cheese again." She ducked her shoulders and
nodded an affirmative.

I returned to the drink station to fill the remaining two glasses.
I am there no more than 30 seconds when I hear, "Spawn! Don't!"

Oh damndamndamn. I turn around to see Spawn, shaker of pepper
flakes firmly grasped with two hands piling it on the table (and
floor) in front of her. I take a deep breath and quickly walk back
to the table. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You no say dis!" my then 3-yo ostensibly argued.

I clacked my teeth audibly shut. No, as a matter of fact, I hadn't
said "Spawn, don't play with the pepper flakes." I hadn't thought
it necessary. Alpha and Beta sat looking at each other. Talking
back wasn't an acceptable form of communication in Clan Ranger.
There are often... consequences... if one tries it at an importune
moment. This was such a one.

"Do you normally play with your food? At the table? Or do you sit
at the table until the food's ready?"

"No."

"'No,' what?"

"No, I no play wi' my food. I sit 'n wait for my food."

"So... What are you doing here?"

"Playing."

I extended my hand. "Don't play with..." as the pepper flake
shaker was set into my palm, "this." I reached over for the towel
and bowl and wiped the table yet again. I brought bowl and towel
back to the counter, thanked the manager, and returned to my
troupe of clowns.

Waiting progressed nicely.

The four of us talked about all the things we'd done during the
day, with the girls often recapping them in triplicate.

Suddenly, Spawn's face contorted into the Silent Screaming Mask of
Utter Pain. I knew immediately what had happened. I picked her up,
and off to the bathroom we charged.

There are many things I could have done but only one that I did at
that moment. I turned the water on cold, a gentle flow, and stuck
her face under it. This action allowed me to wash the flake (a
very large one) out immediately.

It ****ed her off royally though. The Silent Scream morphed into
the Angry-****ed-Off Yell. The bathroom, a Spartan closet with
auditorium sound capabilities, sent her 110dB screech cascading
throughout the bathroom and out into the pizzeria. I didn't care
how loudly she blew her chords as long as I could keep her from
rubbing her eye. This prevention set a higher octave into the
bathroom.

It took 10 minutes of washing, drying, washing, drying, and then
applying a wet paper towel before she stopped yelling at me but it
was worth it.

When I finished dabbing her eye, she once again tried to ram her
pepper-laced fingertips into her eyeball. I stopped that motion
and deftly moved them under the running water. Several flakes fell
into the basin. Their floating stopped her screaming and burbling
as she watched them circle the drain.

"When did you touch the peppers?"

"<sniffle> When you wipe up. I pinch 'em. I don' like'em."

"No. I would like them in my eyes, either. Let's take the pizza
home."

"Uh-huh."

[Damndamndamn]

The Ranger

"Michael "Dog3" Lonergan" > wrote in message
...
> Your stories are hilarious and I love reading them. For some ungodly
> reason I had you pegged in my age group but I'm sure I am wrong. You have
> a 3 year old. At my age a 3 year old would most certainly result in my
> taking an overdose of chocolate, resulting in a diabetic coma.
>
> Michael
I think they are older now.

Liz

On Sun, 08 Jan 2006 02:20:33 GMT, "Michael \"Dog3\" Lonergan"
> replied:
[snip]
>Your stories are hilarious and I love reading them.

Glad you're enjoying them. The daughter-units are quite creative
in their often-unique takes on doing some things.

> For some ungodly reason I had you pegged in my
> age group but I'm sure I am wrong. You have a 3
> year old. At my age a 3 year old would most certainly
> result in my taking an overdose of chocolate, resulting
> in a diabetic coma.

Spawn was three at the time I wrote the story; she's now seven.
I'm a Baby Boomer, though, if that helps you peg my age.

The Ranger

In article >,
The Ranger > wrote:

<snipped family comedy>

> "No. I would like them in my eyes, either. Let's take the pizza
> home."
>
> "Uh-huh."
>
> [Damndamndamn]
>
> The Ranger

<lol> I should send this one to my sister.
She has two boys, 1 8 months and 1 3 1/2.....

I could see this happening to her.

Next time, order pizza delivery and rent a DVD or two. ;-)
--
Om.

"My mother never saw the irony in calling me a son-of-a-bitch." -Jack Nicholson

"The Ranger" > wrote in message
...
> What an effing meal from H壣!
>
> We four (Spawn, Daughter-unit Alpha, Daughter-unit Beta and me)
> went to a local pizza joint -- SWMBO was out wit' Da Grrlz --
> since we'd had such a Smirfy day all day long.
>
> We placed our order. We sat down. I asked everyone at our table
> what they'd like to drink. I ask D-uA to get the shakers of cheese
> and pepper flakes. I asked (politely) for everyone to remain on
> their best behavior while I was at the soda station. Nodded heads
> and proper mumbling faked me out.
>
> I turned, and with D-uA steered to the condiment collection, and
> proceeded to fill the glasses from the self-serve soda fountain.
> I'm unfortunately not as skilled as I once was carrying fill
> beverage glasses, and since spilling isn't just for kids anymore,
> I've learned that multiple trips save on my embarrassment.
>
> I turned away from the soda station to see D-uB creating a snow
> scene that the Ice Queen would've been proud of. "What are you
> doing?" I whispered into her ear as I got back to the table. She
> jumped, scattering more cheese. "Do you play like this at home?" I
> asked again.
>
> "No, Daddy."
>
> "Then why do I have to remind you that you don't here?"
>
> "I dunno..."
>
> "Go up to the counter. Ask for a towel and basin. You will clean
> up this mess."
>
> "Yes, Daddy."
>
> I turned on my two remaining daughters-units, "Don't play with the
> cheese. You don't at home. You don't when we go out. Was that
> clear?" Nods of affirmation. D-uB came back with a towel and small
> bowl and proceeds to clean up her blizzard of green-boxed
> gratings.
>
> "Don't play with the cheese again." She ducked her shoulders and
> nodded an affirmative.
>
> I returned to the drink station to fill the remaining two glasses.
> I am there no more than 30 seconds when I hear, "Spawn! Don't!"
>
> Oh damndamndamn. I turn around to see Spawn, shaker of pepper
> flakes firmly grasped with two hands piling it on the table (and
> floor) in front of her. I take a deep breath and quickly walk back
> to the table. "What do you think you're doing?"
>
> "You no say dis!" my then 3-yo ostensibly argued.
>
> I clacked my teeth audibly shut. No, as a matter of fact, I hadn't
> said "Spawn, don't play with the pepper flakes." I hadn't thought
> it necessary. Alpha and Beta sat looking at each other. Talking
> back wasn't an acceptable form of communication in Clan Ranger.
> There are often... consequences... if one tries it at an importune
> moment. This was such a one.
>
> "Do you normally play with your food? At the table? Or do you sit
> at the table until the food's ready?"
>
> "No."
>
> "'No,' what?"
>
> "No, I no play wi' my food. I sit 'n wait for my food."
>
> "So... What are you doing here?"
>
> "Playing."
>
> I extended my hand. "Don't play with..." as the pepper flake
> shaker was set into my palm, "this." I reached over for the towel
> and bowl and wiped the table yet again. I brought bowl and towel
> back to the counter, thanked the manager, and returned to my
> troupe of clowns.
>
> Waiting progressed nicely.
>
> The four of us talked about all the things we'd done during the
> day, with the girls often recapping them in triplicate.
>
> Suddenly, Spawn's face contorted into the Silent Screaming Mask of
> Utter Pain. I knew immediately what had happened. I picked her up,
> and off to the bathroom we charged.
>
> There are many things I could have done but only one that I did at
> that moment. I turned the water on cold, a gentle flow, and stuck
> her face under it. This action allowed me to wash the flake (a
> very large one) out immediately.
>
> It ****ed her off royally though. The Silent Scream morphed into
> the Angry-****ed-Off Yell. The bathroom, a Spartan closet with
> auditorium sound capabilities, sent her 110dB screech cascading
> throughout the bathroom and out into the pizzeria. I didn't care
> how loudly she blew her chords as long as I could keep her from
> rubbing her eye. This prevention set a higher octave into the
> bathroom.
>
> It took 10 minutes of washing, drying, washing, drying, and then
> applying a wet paper towel before she stopped yelling at me but it
> was worth it.
>
> When I finished dabbing her eye, she once again tried to ram her
> pepper-laced fingertips into her eyeball. I stopped that motion
> and deftly moved them under the running water. Several flakes fell
> into the basin. Their floating stopped her screaming and burbling
> as she watched them circle the drain.
>
> "When did you touch the peppers?"
>
> "<sniffle> When you wipe up. I pinch 'em. I don' like'em."
>
> "No. I would like them in my eyes, either. Let's take the pizza
> home."
>
> "Uh-huh."
>
> [Damndamndamn]
>
> The Ranger

Thanks again for another entertaining post

"The Ranger" > wrote in message
...
> What an effing meal from H壣!


Us single people thank you for the cautionary tale.


--
The generation that used acid to escape reality
is now using antacid to deal with reality
http://www.dwacon.com

On Sun, 8 Jan 2006 11:51:13 -0500, "dwacon"
> replied:
>"The Ranger" > wrote in message ...
> > What an effing meal from H壣!
> >
> Us single people thank you for the cautionary tale.

Us family people enjoy some events more than others but
[generally] wouldn't change any of it.

ObFood: Nappa cabbage and tilapia tonight.

The Ranger

The Ranger > wrote in
:

> I returned to the drink station to fill the remaining two glasses.
> I am there no more than 30 seconds when I hear, "Spawn! Don't!"
>
> Oh damndamndamn. I turn around to see Spawn, shaker of pepper
> flakes firmly grasped with two hands piling it on the table (and
> floor) in front of her. I take a deep breath and quickly walk back
> to the table. "What do you think you're doing?"
>
> "You no say dis!" my then 3-yo ostensibly argued.
>
> Suddenly, Spawn's face contorted into the Silent Screaming Mask of
> Utter Pain. I knew immediately what had happened. I picked her up,
> and off to the bathroom we charged.
>
> It took 10 minutes of washing, drying, washing, drying, and then
> applying a wet paper towel before she stopped yelling at me but it
> was worth it.
>
> When I finished dabbing her eye, she once again tried to ram her
> pepper-laced fingertips into her eyeball. I stopped that motion
> and deftly moved them under the running water. Several flakes fell
> into the basin. Their floating stopped her screaming and burbling
> as she watched them circle the drain.
>
> "When did you touch the peppers?"
>
> "<sniffle> When you wipe up. I pinch 'em. I don' like'em."
>
> "No. I would like them in my eyes, either. Let's take the pizza
> home."
>

Next time rub the eye with the hair of one of the girls. A mans hair will
not work. A few rubs and the pain is gone. Demonstrated this to some
friends once by rubbing cayenne directly into my eye, swipe the eye a
dozen or so times and the pain was gone and very little reddening.

This is the MOST effective treatment for hot stuff in the eye.



--
---
Charles Quinn

"Choosing the lesser of two evils, is still choosing evil" - Jerry Garcia

Ranger,you must be a lot younger than I.My 24yr son is a pleasure to
eat lunch with,but my 30 year old son can still embarass me in a
restaurant!!!

On Mon, 09 Jan 2006 16:43:09 GMT, projectile vomit chick
> ****ed herself and posted:

[snip forgettable text]

So what level membership have you purchased to be a member of my
fan club? You can't belong just for free. Visa, MC, AMEX and
Paypal accepted.

The Ranger

The Ranger wrote:

> On Mon, 09 Jan 2006 16:43:09 GMT, projectile vomit chick
> > ****ed herself and posted:
>
> [snip forgettable text]
>
> So what level membership have you purchased to be a member of my
> fan club? You can't belong just for free. Visa, MC, AMEX and
> Paypal accepted.
>
> The Ranger

Ranger, I always get real enjoyment out of your posts BUT you are going
to have to aim higher if you are attracting those kind of fans! It
doesn't even have a CC or know how to work PP and likely has never seen
what a greenback looks like and we know for sure it doesn't cook or have
a kitchen. Buck up boy. Set your standards higher to attract the
cooking crowd and you will be ok. In the meantime, keep the great posts
coming!

On Mon, 09 Jan 2006 16:55:35 -0500, ~patches~
> replied:
> The Ranger wrote:
> > On Mon, 09 Jan 2006 16:43:09 GMT, projectile vomit chick > ****ed herself and posted:
> >
> > [snip forgettable text]
> >
> > So what level membership have you purchased to be a member
> > of my fan club? You can't belong just for free. Visa, MC, AMEX
> > and Paypal accepted.
> >
> Ranger, [..] you are going to have to aim higher if you are
> attracting those kind of fans! [..] Set your standards higher
> to attract the cooking crowd and you will be ok. [..]

I'm very egalitarian when accepting payment for my fan club
memberships. I'm laughing all the way to the bank.

The Ranger

In article >,
The Ranger > wrote:

> On Mon, 09 Jan 2006 16:43:09 GMT, projectile vomit chick
> > ****ed herself and posted:
>
> [snip forgettable text]
>
> So what level membership have you purchased to be a member of my
> fan club? You can't belong just for free. Visa, MC, AMEX and
> Paypal accepted.
>
> The Ranger

How much for Autographs? ;-)
--
Om.

"My mother never saw the irony in calling me a son-of-a-bitch." -Jack Nicholson