Wednesday, December 15, 2010

what must it be like

to be terrified by your own farts? i can't imagine, but i get a daily glimpse every day when the boobla lets out a toot, pauses, and then promptly loses his s**t:

and on a scary note, it's kind of disturbing how much he looks like my dead beat da' in that photo. not buddies.

working hypothesis after watching "wayne's world" last night - that movie kick-started the whole "that's what she said" rejoinder. true or false?

ugh. when i started this post this morning my head was filled with words - book reviews, my thoughts on the whole wikileaks eebacle, and so on and so forth. now, after a full 12 hour day alone with master T (the dotytron went in early and stayed late in the service of holiday concert servitude) i'm exhausted. it is exhausting staying home with a kid sometimes. i mean, a lot of it is FUN work, and i did manage to bake off a sweet potato pecan pie, the oat cookie for the momofuku crack pie crusts, and a sticky toffee pudding, but still - i hate seeing the little chicken cry but when he does it for hours on end and the only thing that'll stop him is being in your arms and you've got a million knots in your shoulders and lower back pain from just that very thing, then it's really easy to ignore his crying OR get snappy with him.

but then you see the little tear he's squeezed out after wailing and turning into mr. tomato head pooling in the corner of his eye and you hear his hoarse voice from how he's cried his mouth dry and you feel like history's greatest villain. machiavelli ain't got nothing on babies.

monday was a bad night of cold and dark and a too-late start on dinner resulting in panzerotto pizza delivery (incidentally, one of the cheapest, widely available delivery options around. $10 minimum? $5 for a totally filling deep-fried pocket of pizza love? hells yes.) last night i made that tagliatelle with sautéed radicchio and bagna cauda dish, topped with a poached egg that i overcooked (boo):

tonight i had a visit from the roomie, which was nice because master T loves to put on a "i'm the best baby ever!" show for friends/family/strangers so he was on his best behaviour while she was here and she gave my arms a rest for a bit while i ate leftover dal and brown rice from last week.

bah. i know i've been boring lately...the words are there, somewhere...i promise more scintillating updates soon.


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