WW is very peculiar about food. It’s not so much that he doesn’t like certain foods, but more the way he consumes them.
Alcohol
WW clearly lacks the enzyme to digest alcohol, but he somehow feels the need to try whatever I am drinking. He once had a single sip of my cooler and, after turning bright red, proceeded to lie down on the couch & tell us to call 911 if he starts having a heart attack. So you would think that he would stay away from any type of alcoholic beverage after this experience… but noo… my Dad insists that he has “never tried that kind of drink before.” So when my friend LN came over, WW insisted on trying a sip of her raspberry cider. He clearly didn’t realize that it was spiked cider, since the second I said “Dad, you know that has alcohol in it,” he spat it out into the sink & said, “WHAT?!? I’m going to be drunk!” He then popped an Advil (for who knows what reason) and made Bro Cat drive to hockey that night. Okay Dad, it’s impossible to get drunk off swishing 8% cider in your mouth… I’m pretty sure Ke$ha brushes her teeth with a bottle of Jack and she’s still standing (kinda).
Cheese
My Dad loathes cheese. He literally cringes at the sight and smell of cheese. Which is why it is hilarious to pretend to put cheese on whatever we’re having for dinner that night. Bro Cat and I never get tired of the ol’ “Oops, sorry Dad, we made accidentally put LOTS of cheese in your pasta.” His usual response is “Shut up sh*t heads!” WW also tried to order a pizza without cheese. Who does that?!
Mayo
When I was home for Christmas last year, I had the privilege of witnessing WW make a sandwich. Clearly he doesn’t grasp the whole concept of the new “E-Z Squeeze” Mayonnaise bottles. First he unscrews the lid and then uses a knife to get the mayo out. I started to laugh at him when the mayo began to sink to the bottom, making it impossible to get out. His response to this was “Good, I was done with it anyways!” Oh dad…
Oatmeal
It has come to my attention that WW has a quirky way of making oatmeal. Apparently he puts in way too much water, microwaves it, and then drains the excess water with a spoon. Why he wouldn’t just read the instructions and put in the require amount of water, remains a mystery.
All-you-can-eat buffets
When my family goes out to a buffet, there is no joking around. Papa Cat and Bro Cat usually discuss with each other about how they can “make up” for my lack of ability to consumer mass amounts of food. They say that I “don’t get my money’s worth.” I often get reprimanded for loading up on salad and not getting enough meat. Wow, you would think we’re living on welfare and used to scavenging for our food. Clearly the W family loves nothing more than to get as much value as possible out of our purchases.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Nunchucks & Cordless Phones
If anyone knows WW, he sure has a way of making a first impression. Whether it is over the phone or at the dinner table, Papa Cat never fails to create an "unforgettable" first impression.
Phone Manners: Zero to none
Many family friends can attest to WW’s lack of phone etiquette. Don’t expect him to ever pass on a message. If you are not home, his response is usually “Nope, not home. Call back later.” Click (he NEVER says “Bye.”) Above all, WW’s despises telemarketers. Most times he won’t even let them finish their pitch before he tells them to “FAA COFFF” and then hangs up. Actually, you’re lucky if he even answers the phone. WW LOVES call display. If he doesn’t recognize the caller, there is no chance he is picking up… and even if he does recognize the caller but it’s not for him (which it rarely is), he still won't pick up. He will hear the phone ring and just watch everyone else in the house run around looking for a phone, while he is sitting right next to one, He always says, “It’s never for me anyways. I don’t want to talk to them. You pick it up.” I wouldn’t even be surprised if he screens my calls when I’m not home!
It’s quite odd that Papa Cat doesn’t like to answer the phone, because he is obsessed with knowing exactly where all the phones in the house are located. We have 5 cordless phones and there must be, at all times, 1 on the second level, 1 in the basement and 3 on the main level. Specifically, 1 in the family room, 1 in the kitchen and 1 that is on a charger just in case one of the other phones dies. The minute WW enters the house (after he asks if you kicked the mud flaps of course), he must locate all phones to ensure that the phones are in their proper locations. Anyone who accidentally leaves a phone on a different level, will experience the wrath of WW. Also, if he sees 4 phones on the main level he will say "Where did does this belong??" Dad, cordless phone are meant to be portable. You are defeating the whole purpose of cordless!! He clearly does not understand the concept. Papa Cat’s stress level would probably decrease significantly if we only had corded phones in the house (another example of his Techno Peasantry ).
Dinner Etiquette: Negative
The first time I had my friend MM over for dinner was in highschool. We were working on a project and it was her first time ever meeting the W clan. I’m sure “crazy” was an understatement for what she thought of us when she went home. During dinner, WW taught MM how to make nunchucks. Who is this guy?!? Yeah, my dad, the accountant, is teaching my new friend how to make nunchucks at the dinner table. Still, to this day, MM frequently reminds me of the time she first met Papa Cat. Hi-Yah! Karate Chop!
Phone Manners: Zero to none
Many family friends can attest to WW’s lack of phone etiquette. Don’t expect him to ever pass on a message. If you are not home, his response is usually “Nope, not home. Call back later.” Click (he NEVER says “Bye.”) Above all, WW’s despises telemarketers. Most times he won’t even let them finish their pitch before he tells them to “FAA COFFF” and then hangs up. Actually, you’re lucky if he even answers the phone. WW LOVES call display. If he doesn’t recognize the caller, there is no chance he is picking up… and even if he does recognize the caller but it’s not for him (which it rarely is), he still won't pick up. He will hear the phone ring and just watch everyone else in the house run around looking for a phone, while he is sitting right next to one, He always says, “It’s never for me anyways. I don’t want to talk to them. You pick it up.” I wouldn’t even be surprised if he screens my calls when I’m not home!
It’s quite odd that Papa Cat doesn’t like to answer the phone, because he is obsessed with knowing exactly where all the phones in the house are located. We have 5 cordless phones and there must be, at all times, 1 on the second level, 1 in the basement and 3 on the main level. Specifically, 1 in the family room, 1 in the kitchen and 1 that is on a charger just in case one of the other phones dies. The minute WW enters the house (after he asks if you kicked the mud flaps of course), he must locate all phones to ensure that the phones are in their proper locations. Anyone who accidentally leaves a phone on a different level, will experience the wrath of WW. Also, if he sees 4 phones on the main level he will say "Where did does this belong??" Dad, cordless phone are meant to be portable. You are defeating the whole purpose of cordless!! He clearly does not understand the concept. Papa Cat’s stress level would probably decrease significantly if we only had corded phones in the house (another example of his Techno Peasantry ).
Dinner Etiquette: Negative
The first time I had my friend MM over for dinner was in highschool. We were working on a project and it was her first time ever meeting the W clan. I’m sure “crazy” was an understatement for what she thought of us when she went home. During dinner, WW taught MM how to make nunchucks. Who is this guy?!? Yeah, my dad, the accountant, is teaching my new friend how to make nunchucks at the dinner table. Still, to this day, MM frequently reminds me of the time she first met Papa Cat. Hi-Yah! Karate Chop!
Monday, February 28, 2011
2 Bicycles
The other day my family was sitting around cracking open fortune cookies to read their fortunes. Why they had so many fortune cookies, I'm not sure. Perhaps Mama Cat decided to make a pit stop to the Fortune Cookie Factory (and yes, such a place does exists.) Bro Cat pulled out a fortune that read,
"Something on 4 wheels will soon be a fun investment for you!"
WW's response, "Ya, 2 bicycles."
Followed by "Tell your sister that for her blob. See, I'm funny."
Oh Papa Cat...
"Something on 4 wheels will soon be a fun investment for you!"
WW's response, "Ya, 2 bicycles."
Followed by "Tell your sister that for her blob. See, I'm funny."
Oh Papa Cat...
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Work Is Thieving My Vision
I apologize for the long hiatus since my last post. I have a good excuse, I promise. So… basically I spent the past 2 weeks freaking out because I thought I was going blind in one eye. It all started when I began my new job in January. At work I stare at a computer screen for 8 hours a day, and by the end of the day I could barely read out of my left eye. It felt like I was only wearing one contact lens (for any one who knows the feeling.) OMG my work is thieving my vision!! I spent all last weekend scared sh*tless, thinking that I was going blind and would need a glass eye. A friend of mine even took the courtesy of Googling “glass eye.” Don’t do it, it will only make you feel worse… Thanks MM. After countless conversations with Mama Cat and other close friends making glass eye jokes, I decided to make an appointment to get the situation checked out. Meanwhile, I spent the days leading up to my appointment having slight heart attacks alone in my cubicle, thinking about all the possible causes of my blindness.
Luckily I live in the city that has the best optometry school in the country, and was able to get in for an appointment pretty quickly. Since it is a teaching school, I had a young man in his 3rd year do my eye exam. I could tell he was worried after performing the test, “Which lens is better? 1 or 2? Can you read the letters out to me?” To which my response was, “They’re all bad…and what letters? I can’t even see any letters.” You know something is wrong when a student says “I’ll be right back, I just need to check something with my supervisor.” All I could think was “FML, I need a glass eye.” So 2 hours later, they figured out that I have SUPER dry eyes and the “dryness” (or whatever) was blocking my line of vision in one eye. Really?!? That’s ALL?? Well, it means no contacts for 2 weeks and an eye drop regiment, but at least NO GLASS EYE!!! I really dodged a bullet.
As I was celebrating my new found appreciation for my eyes, the optometry student and his supervisor wanted to check to make sure that there nothing else was wrong with the back of my eyeballs. This involved dilating my pupils, causing blurred vision and sensitivity to sunlight for a couple hours. I had to go back to work after, but I thought, whatever, might as well. (When in Rome?) Yeah, so I get outside and find myself BLINDED by the slight ray of sun poking out from behind the clouds. It literally felt like the lightsabers were being jabbed through my eyes!! I had no idea where the bus stop was, so I wandered up the street, blind, looking like a complete psycho. Luckily I came across a bus stop with a bench; otherwise I never would have been able to see the bus stop sign. Ok, so I managed to get on the bus and get downtown to my office. I sat down at my computer only to realize that I couldn’t read a single thing. So I put some props up on my screen and ate snacks as slowly as I could until the blindness wore off. Wow… what an awesome day.
So this is my warning to you. Hit up the eye drops hard!! (Unless you live in Florida, then you’re probably ok.) Apparently lots of office buildings are super super dry, especially in the winter. Dry eyes can strike without any symptoms, so save yourself the “glass eye scare” and get some drops! People in your office might think you’re getting baked all the time, but at least you won’t look like Frankenstein.
…and that was why I haven’t updated lately. But since the eye situation is under control, there will be more Papa Cat stories to come!
P.S. Helen Keller was an amazing woman.
Luckily I live in the city that has the best optometry school in the country, and was able to get in for an appointment pretty quickly. Since it is a teaching school, I had a young man in his 3rd year do my eye exam. I could tell he was worried after performing the test, “Which lens is better? 1 or 2? Can you read the letters out to me?” To which my response was, “They’re all bad…and what letters? I can’t even see any letters.” You know something is wrong when a student says “I’ll be right back, I just need to check something with my supervisor.” All I could think was “FML, I need a glass eye.” So 2 hours later, they figured out that I have SUPER dry eyes and the “dryness” (or whatever) was blocking my line of vision in one eye. Really?!? That’s ALL?? Well, it means no contacts for 2 weeks and an eye drop regiment, but at least NO GLASS EYE!!! I really dodged a bullet.
As I was celebrating my new found appreciation for my eyes, the optometry student and his supervisor wanted to check to make sure that there nothing else was wrong with the back of my eyeballs. This involved dilating my pupils, causing blurred vision and sensitivity to sunlight for a couple hours. I had to go back to work after, but I thought, whatever, might as well. (When in Rome?) Yeah, so I get outside and find myself BLINDED by the slight ray of sun poking out from behind the clouds. It literally felt like the lightsabers were being jabbed through my eyes!! I had no idea where the bus stop was, so I wandered up the street, blind, looking like a complete psycho. Luckily I came across a bus stop with a bench; otherwise I never would have been able to see the bus stop sign. Ok, so I managed to get on the bus and get downtown to my office. I sat down at my computer only to realize that I couldn’t read a single thing. So I put some props up on my screen and ate snacks as slowly as I could until the blindness wore off. Wow… what an awesome day.
So this is my warning to you. Hit up the eye drops hard!! (Unless you live in Florida, then you’re probably ok.) Apparently lots of office buildings are super super dry, especially in the winter. Dry eyes can strike without any symptoms, so save yourself the “glass eye scare” and get some drops! People in your office might think you’re getting baked all the time, but at least you won’t look like Frankenstein.
…and that was why I haven’t updated lately. But since the eye situation is under control, there will be more Papa Cat stories to come!
P.S. Helen Keller was an amazing woman.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
My Blob
This just in, WW thinks I write a "Blob."
I was talking to Mama Cat on the phone the other night when she said something funny. So Papa Cat asked me "Are you going to write about your mom in your blob now?" One of the many examples of WW's Techno Peasantry...
I was talking to Mama Cat on the phone the other night when she said something funny. So Papa Cat asked me "Are you going to write about your mom in your blob now?" One of the many examples of WW's Techno Peasantry...
Monday, January 31, 2011
Party Animals
So do you remember going to your first party? (And by party I am referring to the kind where teenagers congregate in their parents’ basement, drink 1.5 coolers and then hug the porcelain for the rest of the night.) What did your parents say before you left the house? Probably something along the lines of "have fun, stay safe, be home by midnight." Well, things went a little differently in the WW household. As I was getting ready to go to my first party with a couple girlfriends, WW came to me and suggests that I bring the following 3 things to the party:
1) A whistle
2) Bear spray
3) A small Native American dagger
Yeah, he was 100% serious. Ok, I guess a whistle is somewhat justifiable…but not when you wear it around your neck like a soccer coach, as WW suggested. "*TWEEET!* STOP THE PARTY! DROP AND GIVE ME 10 before you try to roofy me again." I think it would have been a choking hazard more than anything. Secondly, bear spray?!? Chances are I will end up spraying myself in the eyes by accident. Lastly, why do you even have a dagger?? It looked like it should have been an artifact in a museum! And lets be serious, where did he expect me to keep said dagger? “Don’t worry guys, it’s just my casual dagger sticking out of my back pocket.”
I guess WW misunderstood and thought there would literally be animals at this party.
1) A whistle
2) Bear spray
3) A small Native American dagger
Yeah, he was 100% serious. Ok, I guess a whistle is somewhat justifiable…but not when you wear it around your neck like a soccer coach, as WW suggested. "*TWEEET!* STOP THE PARTY! DROP AND GIVE ME 10 before you try to roofy me again." I think it would have been a choking hazard more than anything. Secondly, bear spray?!? Chances are I will end up spraying myself in the eyes by accident. Lastly, why do you even have a dagger?? It looked like it should have been an artifact in a museum! And lets be serious, where did he expect me to keep said dagger? “Don’t worry guys, it’s just my casual dagger sticking out of my back pocket.”
I guess WW misunderstood and thought there would literally be animals at this party.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Sh*t My Kids Are Useless!
A recent conversation with Bro Cat assured me that I will never run out of material to blog about.
“Yesterday we were talking about how you and I are both the same blood type as Mama Cat, and that we're compatible if anyone needs a kidney. WW, being a different blood type stated, ‘Sh*t! Both my kids are useless!’”
-Bro Cat circa January 2011
Keep ‘em coming WW!! You can’t make this sh*t up.
“Yesterday we were talking about how you and I are both the same blood type as Mama Cat, and that we're compatible if anyone needs a kidney. WW, being a different blood type stated, ‘Sh*t! Both my kids are useless!’”
-Bro Cat circa January 2011
Keep ‘em coming WW!! You can’t make this sh*t up.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Windshield Washer Fluid
WW HATES using windshield washer fluid. Not only does he boycott using, but he also yells at anyone else in the house that uses it. Whenever possible, he will throw handfulls of snow on the windshield and then use the windshield wipers once it melts. However, if WW is driving and can’t get to a snow bank, he can frequently be found squirting water out of the sunroof and on to the windshield at stoplights. He ALWAYS leaves a bottle of water in his car strictly for this purpose. The one time I took the water bottle out of the car, I got reamed out. Ok Dad, I’ll compensate you for the 10 cents you had to use in windshield wiper fluid. Although, getting reamed out was nothing compared to the embarrassment my brother and I went through when WW used to drop us off at school. In junior high and high school, he used to make us throw snow on the windshield when we got out of the car… I'm not quite sure how I even had friends.
If you see someone poking out of a sunroof, pouring water on the windshield, please befriend him/her. He/she will make your life significantly more humorous.
I came home one night after driving the car and WW asked how many times I had to use the windshield washer fluid (I’m not even kidding, this was the first thing he said when I got in the house.) I told him “Once!” What he doesn’t know is that it was for five minutes straight!! Haha Joke’s on you Dad!
Oh, I also got an update from Bro Cat about the mud flap kicking situation. Apparently it has gotten worse. WW realized that, the snow that falls off the mud flaps on the driveway contains little rocks. Well, if left overnight, the rocks will freeze to the pristine driveway. So the new rule is that you must either stop the car in the middle of the road before kicking the snow off (what a safe suggestion), or you have to use a broom and immediately sweep it off the driveway… Times is mad hard at the W household.
If you see someone poking out of a sunroof, pouring water on the windshield, please befriend him/her. He/she will make your life significantly more humorous.
I came home one night after driving the car and WW asked how many times I had to use the windshield washer fluid (I’m not even kidding, this was the first thing he said when I got in the house.) I told him “Once!” What he doesn’t know is that it was for five minutes straight!! Haha Joke’s on you Dad!
Oh, I also got an update from Bro Cat about the mud flap kicking situation. Apparently it has gotten worse. WW realized that, the snow that falls off the mud flaps on the driveway contains little rocks. Well, if left overnight, the rocks will freeze to the pristine driveway. So the new rule is that you must either stop the car in the middle of the road before kicking the snow off (what a safe suggestion), or you have to use a broom and immediately sweep it off the driveway… Times is mad hard at the W household.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Techno-Peasant Using Wi-Five
First of all, I would like to make an amendment to my definition of "Snow Farming." After reading my previous post, my mom made it clear that the full definition is, "Taking snow from the driveway (or from our composite, maintenance-free deck) and putting it on the grass or bushes." WW does this to spread the snow evenly so that somehow, in minus 20 weather, it can melt and nourish the grass. When I called WW to ask him exactly how this melting process happens, his exact words were, "That's the characteristics of snow, stupid. An Eskimo could tell you the same thing!" It's safe to say that WW and the Eskimos have no idea what they're talking about, since we have by far the rattiest looking lawn on the street.
Another note about the lawn...
In the summer, WW tries to water the lawn as infrequently as possible. There are a few reasons for this:
1) He doesn't want the lawn to grow so that he doesn't have to mow it... oh and watching WW mow the lawn is quite the sight... it involves coveralls and a SARS mask
2) He doesn't want to pay for excessive use of water. He claims it's for environmental reasons, but I think it's really just the dollars and cents that keep him up at night (I am told on a daily basis that we are on food stamps)
Now that I got that out of the way, I'd like to talk a bit about WW's skills with technology... or lack there of. He has often been described as a "Techno-Peasant." For starters, I became the Golden Child when I showed WW how to use YouTube in 2008... about 3 years after it was created. While listening to music on YouTube, he was convinced that it was illegal because he was "downloading" music. Watch out Dad, the cops are going to get you for YouTubing too much Fleetwood Mac!!
You can only imagine how confused WW was when he got his new Blackberry. I have explained to him numerous times that BBM stands for Blackberry Messenger. Yet every time I ask him if he got my BBM, he asks "what's a BBM?" BLACKBERRY MESSENGER, DAD! Blackberry Messenger. You would be surprised how difficult it is to teach a Techno-Peasant the concept of "data." First he thought that it went through as a text message, then he asked if it used "Wi-FIVE." Not Wi-fi, Wi-FIVE. I hope he never finds out about the barcode scanner to add contacts. I do not want to try to explain how that one works. On a side note, WW clearly does not realize that the "R" means that I can see that he has read my BBM. Quite frequently he will read my BBMs and never respond. Like the time I wished him happy birthday and got no response. Zero BBM courtesy I tell you! So don't be offended if he does this to you, because he does it to his own daughter. Although I am fairly certain that I am his only contact on BBM anyways. My Mom and Brother have both boycotted getting Blackberrys for the reason that they refuse to be WW's 24-hour help desk. Good call Mamacat and Brocat.
Another note about the lawn...
In the summer, WW tries to water the lawn as infrequently as possible. There are a few reasons for this:
1) He doesn't want the lawn to grow so that he doesn't have to mow it... oh and watching WW mow the lawn is quite the sight... it involves coveralls and a SARS mask
2) He doesn't want to pay for excessive use of water. He claims it's for environmental reasons, but I think it's really just the dollars and cents that keep him up at night (I am told on a daily basis that we are on food stamps)
Now that I got that out of the way, I'd like to talk a bit about WW's skills with technology... or lack there of. He has often been described as a "Techno-Peasant." For starters, I became the Golden Child when I showed WW how to use YouTube in 2008... about 3 years after it was created. While listening to music on YouTube, he was convinced that it was illegal because he was "downloading" music. Watch out Dad, the cops are going to get you for YouTubing too much Fleetwood Mac!!
You can only imagine how confused WW was when he got his new Blackberry. I have explained to him numerous times that BBM stands for Blackberry Messenger. Yet every time I ask him if he got my BBM, he asks "what's a BBM?" BLACKBERRY MESSENGER, DAD! Blackberry Messenger. You would be surprised how difficult it is to teach a Techno-Peasant the concept of "data." First he thought that it went through as a text message, then he asked if it used "Wi-FIVE." Not Wi-fi, Wi-FIVE. I hope he never finds out about the barcode scanner to add contacts. I do not want to try to explain how that one works. On a side note, WW clearly does not realize that the "R" means that I can see that he has read my BBM. Quite frequently he will read my BBMs and never respond. Like the time I wished him happy birthday and got no response. Zero BBM courtesy I tell you! So don't be offended if he does this to you, because he does it to his own daughter. Although I am fairly certain that I am his only contact on BBM anyways. My Mom and Brother have both boycotted getting Blackberrys for the reason that they refuse to be WW's 24-hour help desk. Good call Mamacat and Brocat.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Sh*t My Dad Does ft. Papa Cat
Ok, so I've realized that my other blog had good intentions, but let's be serious, I don't have enough time to keep up with weekly blog entries. Ever since I was little I would always tell my Mom that our family is not "normal." I would go over to visit friends and realize that my family is not quite like the rest. Recently, I was at the bookstore (or maybe it was Costco, they have everything...) and came across a book called "Sh*t My Dad Says." Interesting concept. Then I was reading the Globe & Mail and saw that it made the list of bestsellers for 2010. Really?!? So, I will blog and hopefully someone can find some humour in the craziness of WW (I'll use this instead of his real name, because if he ever found out I was using his real name on the internet, I would probably be disowned.) Also, I've been told many-a times that my grammar sucks. Perhaps you will find that slightly amusing as well. I'll continue to update my blog as WW does more crazy sh*t, but to give you an idea, I'll do a recap of some of the highlights up til now.
Snow Farming
My Dad LOVES shovelling the snow. He will never admit it (he actually "says" he hates it), but the following actions speak louder than words:
- he goes out to shovel the second that snow touches the ground and then again roughly 4 times per day when he is not at work
- he cannot drive on the driveway (leaving or coming home) if there is snow on it. When I was in high school, he would ask me to shovel it before he came home so that he didn't "pack it into the driveway." I'm pretty sure he loves that cement more than he loves me.
- he asks me for exact times when I will be coming home, or when my friends will be coming over so that he can make sure that no one else drives on the driveway when there is snow either
- after shovelling the heavy snow off the driveway, he uses a large broom to sweep it so clean that you could probably eat off it
- he shovels the deck in my backyard... WTF?!? He is literally out there so often, it is like he's "tending to the crops" (of snow.) That's why my Mom coined the term "snow farming"
Mud Flaps
So during the winter in Canada, clumps of snow get stuck on the mud guards/flaps behind the wheels on cars. For those living in warm places and cannot identify with this, screw you. Anyways, one time I drove into the garage on a snowy day without kicking the mud guards. NBD right? haha not so much for WW. I was told that I was going to "flood the garage when the snow melts and falls off the car." Is this guy serious?!?! So, a new rule for the car is that you must kick the mud guards on the driveway EVERY time you come home. It doesn't matter if you're wearing cute patent flats or have a friend in the car... THE MUD FLAPS MUST BE KICKED TO AVOID FLOODING THE GARAGE. No Exceptions!! How embarrassing...
The Head Lamp
The last time I went home, WW had a head lamp. But what does he use it for? TO SHOVEL THE SNOW. Oh yes. He uses it after it gets dark to shovel around the side of the house. Our neighbours must think he is a total nut job!! A full demonstration showed me that he can tilt the lamp so that he doesn't even have to tilt his neck. As he say, it is "so functional."
The Anal Log
WW used to make everyone who drove the family car fill out (what my Mom called) the "Anal Log." He made a spreadsheet that you had to fill out every time you went to the gas station. The categories that needed to be filled in were: Mileage, amount spent, discounts, notes. And I'm pretty sure there were a few others. Yeah, discounts were recorded because approximately $1.65 could be saved on groceries when filling up at a particular gas station. CHA CHING!! My dad then uses all the data to figure out EXACTLY how many miles his car gets per litre. When we sold our last vehicle, he was CONVINCED that the Anal Log was the selling feature. You don't need 5 years worth of data to figure out whether or not your car is getting good mileage!! If you keep a log of this sort, please refrain from telling anyone.
I hope you (if there is in fact anyone reading this) are mildy entertained by the Sh*t My Dad Does. I used to be so embarrassed, but I have decided to embrace it...sorta.
Snow Farming
My Dad LOVES shovelling the snow. He will never admit it (he actually "says" he hates it), but the following actions speak louder than words:
- he goes out to shovel the second that snow touches the ground and then again roughly 4 times per day when he is not at work
- he cannot drive on the driveway (leaving or coming home) if there is snow on it. When I was in high school, he would ask me to shovel it before he came home so that he didn't "pack it into the driveway." I'm pretty sure he loves that cement more than he loves me.
- he asks me for exact times when I will be coming home, or when my friends will be coming over so that he can make sure that no one else drives on the driveway when there is snow either
- after shovelling the heavy snow off the driveway, he uses a large broom to sweep it so clean that you could probably eat off it
- he shovels the deck in my backyard... WTF?!? He is literally out there so often, it is like he's "tending to the crops" (of snow.) That's why my Mom coined the term "snow farming"
Mud Flaps
So during the winter in Canada, clumps of snow get stuck on the mud guards/flaps behind the wheels on cars. For those living in warm places and cannot identify with this, screw you. Anyways, one time I drove into the garage on a snowy day without kicking the mud guards. NBD right? haha not so much for WW. I was told that I was going to "flood the garage when the snow melts and falls off the car." Is this guy serious?!?! So, a new rule for the car is that you must kick the mud guards on the driveway EVERY time you come home. It doesn't matter if you're wearing cute patent flats or have a friend in the car... THE MUD FLAPS MUST BE KICKED TO AVOID FLOODING THE GARAGE. No Exceptions!! How embarrassing...
The Head Lamp
The last time I went home, WW had a head lamp. But what does he use it for? TO SHOVEL THE SNOW. Oh yes. He uses it after it gets dark to shovel around the side of the house. Our neighbours must think he is a total nut job!! A full demonstration showed me that he can tilt the lamp so that he doesn't even have to tilt his neck. As he say, it is "so functional."
The Anal Log
WW used to make everyone who drove the family car fill out (what my Mom called) the "Anal Log." He made a spreadsheet that you had to fill out every time you went to the gas station. The categories that needed to be filled in were: Mileage, amount spent, discounts, notes. And I'm pretty sure there were a few others. Yeah, discounts were recorded because approximately $1.65 could be saved on groceries when filling up at a particular gas station. CHA CHING!! My dad then uses all the data to figure out EXACTLY how many miles his car gets per litre. When we sold our last vehicle, he was CONVINCED that the Anal Log was the selling feature. You don't need 5 years worth of data to figure out whether or not your car is getting good mileage!! If you keep a log of this sort, please refrain from telling anyone.
I hope you (if there is in fact anyone reading this) are mildy entertained by the Sh*t My Dad Does. I used to be so embarrassed, but I have decided to embrace it...sorta.
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