I fancy myself an intrepid, if boozy, anthropologist.

Posts tagged ‘Donovan the Destroyer’

It’s Friday! Here’s what I have learned this week:

1.  My husbands benefits from me being on weight watchers in that I occasionally cook dinner now!  Well, sort of benefits.

2.  Apparently healthy food (or possibly my cooking) makes my husband violently ill.  Get better soon, Pool Boy.

3.  Toddlers + slides = static

"OH MY GOD THIS IS AWESOME!!!!!!"

4.  My boss has never seen Office Space, therefore he doesn’t understand why I cringe everytime he says “That would be great.”  He also probably doesn’t understand why people keep stealing my red swingline stapeler.

5.  While I am generally amazed at what my son can understand, apparently the phrase “careful, that’s heavy” is not among those he’s grasped.

Unfortunately, the banana was a casualty in this little incident.

6.  In discussing our pasts, I learned I am apparently the only person in the whole office (male or female) who has never been in a physical fight.  Hearing the ladies get all in to these stories about knocking another girl’s teeth out has made me a little afraid.

7.  Cocker Spaniels and  Toddlers are equally interested in tennis balls.  They’re also surprisingly equally matched in terms of fighting over said tennis ball.

8.  Everyone at work that’s all decked out in camo is not wearing it for a fashion statement, which is a relief I suppose… rather everyone is getting up early to go hunting and coming in to work afterwards.  (Insert “Deliverance” theme here)

9.  “I have to take off early today – I have a booze cruise tonight” is apparently an acceptable excuse for leaving work early.

10.  Since BBC1 is no longer available on my Sirius radio, I have tried listening to Cosmo radio.  This week I learned that is NOT an option.  My brain cells die a little each time I tune in.  I think I would fare better drinking ACTUAL Cosmo’s on my way to work.

What did YOU learn this week?

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A hefty dose of Dono-Drama

Last night, as I was upstairs with Donovan, he rammed the baby gate with his fire-truck-thingy and managed to knock down the gate and go tumbling halfway down the stairs.  TOTAL PANIC for both of us.  I later found the book I had been carrying flung halfway across the living room where I must have thrown it in a fit of melodrama when it all happened.

I ran downstairs and scooped up my wailing, clumsy, toddler and quickly realized he was fine, just spooked.  David, who had heard me shout “OH MY GOD!!!” when it happened had joined me on the stairs asking “are you ok????” repeatedly.  Just as everyone was starting to calm down and realize we had averted disaster, Donovan points to the top of the stairs where his fire truck is rammed through the demolished baby gate and says “OH NO!!” as if to say “look!  Some ass hole tore up the gate and my favorite toy!!”  Yeah, that would be you, turd-o-potamus.

At least that kid is always good for some comic relief.

"I will wreck your shit with my happy little cartooney firetruck."

“I will wreck your shit with my happy little cartooney firetruck.”