I Play Sims Asylum (part6)

Chyeah.

"Thing #1 - never forget where you left your uranium. People get real touchy when you say shit like 'Ha ha ... um, has anyone seen that uranium I was carrying around awhile ago?' You gotta leave yourself a note or something."

"Thing #2 - do not taste the plutonium. It'll be tempting, believe me. But, I've made that mistake so you don't have to."

"Have you heard a word I've said?"

Jesus! Where did you come from, Cory? Is your underwear pinching you?

Ah, I see. You just wanted to show them that trick where your hand plays dead. It's a good one.

Now that is the look of macaroni satisfaction.

Aww! He sacrificed his bowl as an offering to you!

Looks like you might want to put some pants on, because you've got a new fan.

Wow. You were doing so well offering to feed her. Where did you go wrong? Oh right. The terror.

Man, he's back for more! Excellent skulk you got going on there.

Abort! She is way onto you, dude.

Well, this Simular romance is over.
Hey, Eve. Whatchu up to?

Toilet scrubbing! This is wonderful. Cleaning makes the bad feelings go away.

Your timing is extremely interesting, though.

Calm down, Cory. She can't see anything past your modesty heart.

Come on, Rev - if you start squatting on the laundry, we'll all start squatting on the laundry. It'll be anarchy.

There you go. Staring at the giant eye on your television is much better than doing the laundry.

I never would have guessed that this was the yoga channel.

You're right, my friend. This is the best way to get some exercise into your day.

What are you looking so pleased about, macaroni boy.

Look at this applesauce. Greg really thinks he's got it going Bossa Nova.

Don't toy with me, Cory. Tell me that bag is actually going to make it into the washer.

I am about to take the wrinkles out of your testicles.

What is happening with all y'all? You're cleaning everything BUT the laundry.

Even the fish tank is getting a sponging.

Rev! Yes! I knew you'd come through for us.

Abominations! What could possibly be more important than cleaning up?!

Greg, you are the absolute worst influence on everyone.

But, at least this move will make Rev popular among Matrix nerds and ... well, all men.

I Play Sims Asylum (part7)
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Conversing with the small ones

Me: I just bought shampoo and shaving cream, so I can wash my hair and shave my legs. How do you feel about that?
5-yr-old: (playing a game on his Leap Pad) kinda good ... still good.

~~~~~

I have a lot of strange conversations with my kids, most of the time initiated by me, because - and let's all be honest with ourselves - staying home with your children is boring as fuck most of the time. 85% of the job is making meals, cleaning up, moderating fights, undoing the curses you taught them, not leaving knives within reach and trying to keep them from breaking all your shit with the rubber balls your mother-in-law bought for them. You gotta make the remaining 15%  interesting, or you'll bust out of your front door one day and never stop running, even if you hate running.

I have two boys, ages 4 & 5, and they are both very different humans. The older one is dramatic, neurotic and seems to prefer the truth. The younger one is affectionate, unbelievably loud and makes shit up all the time.

I can't decide which one is more fun to fuck with, because they have such different reactions.

~~~~~

4-yr-old: What happened to your socks? *points to the dirty soles*
Me: At night, when you're sleeping, they pop off my feet, crawl into your bed and suck on your bellybutton.
4-yr-old: Oh, yeah. *nods in agreement*
Me: Hey, pull up your shirt, let's see if your bellybutton is juicing right now.
4-yr-old: *lifts shirt* nope, no juicing.
Me (the next day): Did my socks get your bellybutton last night?
4-yr-old: Yes, but I made them go away.


5-yr-old: *says something about Peeps*
Me: You know, Peeps eat your bellybutton.
5-yr-old: No they don't!
Me: Yes they do! Why do you think we don't keep them in the house?
5-yr-old: No. *gestures to let me know that I'm a fool* People eat Peeps.
Me: Yeah, and when you do, they come out of your bellybutton!
5-yr-old: No.
Me: They totally do.
Husband: She's lying. Peeps don't eat your bellybutton.
Me: Can't I have any fun?

At this point, I walk into the kitchen to do something and hear Husband and son having a lengthy conversation about umbilical cords.

Also, I have no idea why I'm obsessed with things happening to my son's bellybuttons.

~~~~~

Like I said, my younger son is affectionate - affection he gives freely to everyone else on the planet but me. I have to work for it, apparently.

Me: Come here, let's have a cuddle.
4-yr-old: No. I'll cuddle you later. In the future.
Me: You always say that, and then you never do.
4-yr-old: I'm busy.
Me: Please?!
4-yr-old: I'll give you a quick hug. It's the best I can do.

Thanks, kid.

~~~~~

I decided to start a conversation with them right now, because this blog entry is too short.

Me: I went to the store today and bought tampons and garlic powder. How do you feel about that?
4-yr-old: Good. It's good. I like garlic powder. I need my garlic powder.
Me: I also got, um ...
4-yr-old: *gasp* What else did you got!? What did you got at the store, mama?

(he's fucking with me. no one is ever this excited about what you got at Walgreens.)

Me: I got um, basil.
4-yr-old: Oh, basil!

(or basil)

Me: ... and decongestants.
4-yr-old: Oh, is that for eating?
Me: No, it's not for eating. What do people do with tampons?
4-yr-old: They're for eating too.
5-yr-old: What did you say, mom? What did he say?

(his super hero senses must have alerted him to absurdity being perpetrated)

4-yr-old: Audience is made of people. People who live and breathe.
Me: Oh ... kay ...  (to 5-yr-old) do you have anything to add?
5-yr-old: Yeah. *clicks tongue twice* I'm going to add a Universal.

(oh, because that's not absurd.)
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I Play Sims (part67)

We're back. Hurry up and be seated.

This sit-down has an air of charm with a smash of politeness. Well done, the both of you.

Oh dear. Who made a stinky?

Hrm. It could have been just about anyone. Guess we'll have to accept the mystery.

God, Frida, don't try to eat it. What is wrong with you today?

I'm not kidding, that was gross. No one will take you seriously if you keep gobbling their smells.

Don't you even give me that look. I didn't do that one either.

Ha! You're right. It kinda does smell like a pile of old books. Sorry about that. I mean, I'm sure the person who did it is sorry.

Go ahead and judge me, Frida. At least I haven't started doing interpretive dance mid-conversation. In the foyer.

I betcha regret saying "pics or it didn't happen." Betcha do, betcha do.

I'll just check in on Stanley. He's talking to Robert Wilson's former imaginary friend/real girl now. Okay, then.

"You've got to squash that falafel, bro."

"Make it your bitch. Be like 'beeeeeetch, please.'"

"Take that ish downtown, my man. Park it by the civic center. Show it a good time."

"I once flew on a magical steak."

"I got a falafel coming soon. It's as big as my head. I'm going to grind it good, best believe."

Poppy, thank god you're here. You would not believe the far-out, kooky conversation Stanley's gotten himself into.

Fine. I can take a hint. I know what it means when a person walks straight through a pane of glass in a lab coat.

Please tell me someone in this household is doing something relatively normal. I already need a drink.

Kayla's attending her prom, and her date is bitchy resting face. I'm sure they'll have a wonderful time.

Rachel, what the hell is your damage?

Who hates butterflies. I think your blood sugar is low.

Yeah, getcha some leftover cake. One can always count on a fridge full of leftover cake.

Eat quickly! Before Stanley grabs your thought cake!

Wow, that was a quick prom. But at least you had grape in your pocket.

Chowmp! So, how did it go?

Yeah, this pose has been done before. C for effort. Your hands just aren't jazzy enough.

I Play Sims (part68)
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