So you’ve eaten low-fat and non-fat yogurt all of your life.
Then you stop by the new Trader Joe’s in your neighborhood and make an innocent purchase of this:
MY. GOD.
This just in… Fat tastes goooooooooood.
Hey, Big Guy, it’s TheMonk here. My sister Swee’Pea is here too. I’m sure you remember us from last year. Anyway, I’m writing because I have this fear that once we get to sit on your lap, Swee’Pea’s going to freak out or something and I won’t get a chance to say what I gotta say.
So let’s get to it, okay. I’ve been a VERY good boy. My daddy tells me that all the time. I give kisses to anyone that asks, I don’t get nearly as cranky now than I did in my youth, and I even recently learned to share. As you can see, I deserve some Santa-love. You know what I’m sayin’? Anyway, Daddy’s been telling me and sis that you’re the man to talk to if we want something so I’m going to give it a shot.
First, Swee’Pea wants me to make sure that you know she’s working hard on this sharing thing (although she could work a little harder if you ask me). She also hopes that you won’t hold all those temper tantrums against her because being one is hard! She must realize that she’s on the fence when it comes to your naughty and nice list because yesterday she gave me her graham cracker! She didn’t have to do that because I had my own (I took it, though. I’m not dumb.) but it was a nice thing to do. Anyway, the reason we’re stating her case is Swee’Pea really wants a pony. Now, our back yard is so small that Mommy and Daddy won’t let me play back there because if I trip going out the back door, I might hit my head on the back wall – so I don’t know how we could possibly fit a pony back there – but who am I to kill a girl’s dream?
Okay, now that we have Swee’Pea’s pipe dream request out of the way, let’s get down to business. I want electronics. Anything that beeps or turns on and off, that’s for me. But none of this Fisher Price fake electronic crap, okay? I want the real thing. You tell the elves not to skimp on the bells and whistles, okay? In fact, I heard Daddy say he wanted a 42″ flat screen t.v. I’m assuming one of those things oomes with a remote so I’m down for that.
Oh, and while were at it, I heard Daddy say that we’re supposed to leave milk and graham crackers for you and a carrot for Rudolph. Now, I’m perfectly okay with giving up a carrot but if you don’t give me what I want and I have to give up a graham cracker, there’s going to be some serious tantrums being thrown here.
Well, that’s all I can think of. I hear we’re going to be seeing you next week but if Swee’Pea freaks out and I don’t get my face time, then consider yourself notified of my desires.
Give a big sloppy kiss to the Mrs. for me. And Swee’Pea says a big hug to Rudolph and the gang.
Peace Out,
TheMonk.
When preparing to scramble organic brown eggs to feed to your twins, and you crack open an egg that contains two yolks, is it normal to feel a little weird about it?
Seen at the local Barnes & Noble bookstore:
A table with a sign that reads, “Perfect gifts for under $20″
One book catches my eye.
“The Art of Pole Dancing”
Um, I’m not sure if that’s the perfect gift. But I guess I can see why someone would think that way.
It’s raining here in San Diego for the first time in months.
It’s about time.
For a while there, I thought I was actually going to have to wash my car.
Does anyone ever use the little magnifying glass on the end of the nail clippers?
Why can the babies sleep through a smoke alarm after daddy almosts burns dinner a little smoke steam triggers the alarm but wake up whenever the cat meows?
How can squash and sweet potato look as orange coming out as it did coming in?
Just wondering.
To some you’re just a chair
but to me there is no doubt
You are the single baby item
that we couldn’t do without
You sit there in the corner
Ever ready when there’s a need
You even lend a hand
When it comes time to feed
The gentle way you bounce
helps put the babes to sleep
But the humming that you make
Makes that sleep become so deep
You’re so tough under pressure
you’ve weathered every puke, poop and pee
I wish that we could use you
from now to eternity
But, alas, one day you’ll be too small
As the babies continue to grow
Just know I will always be your fan
Long after we let you go
It’s time to reluctantly say goodbye to 2005. 2005, you will be missed. You provided the best gift ever – TheMonk and Swee’Pea. But every good year must come to an end. So, I look with hope and wonder to 2006.
For 2006, I have been mulling over the possible New Year’s Resolutions. I could come up with the same old tired resolutions (lose weight, eat better, say “no” to crack, etc.) but now that I have children I have so many new things I need to resolve to improve. And to quote Mark Twain,
“Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.”
So, here’s hoping that this year there are some more potholes on the road to hell. In no particular order, I give you my resolutions for 2006…
Happy New Year everyone. May 2006 bring you health, wealth and happiness. Hey, two out of three wouldn’t be bad.
A quick glance at my search engine stats shows that someone found my blog by typing in “Santa left the milk and cookies drank all of daddy’s beer.” My first reaction was, that bastard! Then, I got to thinking. What if this really happened? I think TheMonk, in particular, would be concerned about this. I’d then suggest he write a letter to Santa. This is what I imagine that letter would be like…
December 26, 2005
Mr. Santa Claus
1oo Christmas Way
The North Pole
Dear Santa Claus,
Thanks for stopping by last night
I waited up to see you
But you stayed just outta sight.
Thank you for the presents
They weren’t too bad at all
But I guess you didn’t really listen
To what I told you at the mall
I wanted that new robot
The one that snorts and sparks and rocks
Instead you sent what Daddy wants
A brand new shiny Xbox
I do have a question for you:
When you were visiting here,
How come you left the milk and cookies
And, instead, drank Daddy’s beer?
That wasn’t very nice of you
I thought I saw Daddy shed a tear
‘Cause he never craves a glass of milk
But he sure does love his beer
Mommy told me not to worry
Daddy really isn’t mad
And sometimes this is the price you pay
To be listed as “good” instead of “bad”
So next year Santa, don’t you worry
We’ll skip the usual holiday cheer
Instead you’ll get a slice of pizza
And a big ol’ glass of beer.
Love,
TheMonk