Functionally ReTodded

I’m warning you right now, so if you read on, it’s your own fault.

I was just walking into the building from lunch at the same time as a few people I used to work with were walking in, and we were all talking and laughing and cutting up, etc.

Good times.

We all walked up the stairs together, but I turned right to go to the new side of the building and they turned left to go into the old side.

Except for one guy. I’ll call him Glenn.

Glenn was always very quiet, but can be a funny guy if you are paying attention. So Glenn turns the same way I’m going to turn coming out of the stairs. I am heading into the bathroom (which is on our side of the building, just like the case of Brady vs. Brady and that bedroom split in half of 1966), and it is clear that Glenn is too, since he’s turned away from his office and towards my side of the building. (I’m a genius when it comes to deductive reasoning).

Anywho, we walk in and I turn right for the standers and Glenn heads into the first sitter (since the more desirable handicapped sitter is already occupado).

Seconds later, as I’m relieving myself, Glenn drops one of the greatest public bathroom farts of all time. Literally. While public restroom flatulence isn’t a specialty of mine in practice, I’ve heard my share over the years, and this was top shelf. Loud, resonant, even echoey, and I’m telling you, it may have been the longest lasting non-Howard Stern Show fart in the history of witnessed farts.

I immediately thought of the Tom Arnold character in a white cowboy suit sitting in the stall next to Austin Powers and saying “Yeah, that’s it! You show that turd who’s boss!!”

And that’s when I laughed out loud, mid-pee, and there was no way to hide that it was me doing the laughing.

I’m glad you guys are moving next week Glenn, because I don’t think you and I could ever look each other in the face again….

Never underestimate a good sense of humor.

Last night, for no particular reason, I was sitting in the la-z-boy, holding the baby and watching the women’s gold medal curling match between Sweden and Switzerland.

Well, I wasn’t holding the baby for no reason. I was watching women’s curling for no reason. I was holding the baby because she was fussy for a few minutes.

Anyway, I’m watching, and if you’ve seen it, you know that once the stone-pushing player lets go of the stone, either that person or the person at the other end of the shuffleboard court starts yelling and screaming “SWEEP!” or “SWEEP LEFT!!” or “SWEEP RIGHT!!” or “FASTER!!” or “SLOWER!!!” or “MAN, YOU’VE GOT A GREAT RACK!!”

Alright, I made the last one up. But the rest is true and it’s entertaining.

Unless you’re watching the Swedes and the Swiss. Because I don’t speak German or Swedish, so I have no idea what they’re yelling about at all.

After about 15 minutes of this, my wife walks into the den like she’s coming to check on the baby, and proceeds to scream “BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH!!!”

Then she said “They were shouting nonsense, so I figured I should too.” She then laughed and headed for the kitchen.

You need that kind of funny in your life. Or at least I do…

Our last two nights have resulted in miniature ninja visits to my side of the bed, complete with horror stories about “bad dweams” or some red spots in her eyes. (You try explaining why you can see light thru your eyelids because they’re filled with a thin layer of blood).

Wednesday night, this occurred around 3am. Last night, my visit was around 11:30 or so. I was so completely out of it and asleep that I failed to get the exact time.

On the upside, Sophia ate around 8pm and didn’t awaken until two something for a refill.

Good stuff…