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There's snow place like home

2/03/2009

I think (don't get excited it's been known to happen) that at some point in the last two years I was run over by a truck. Now my body is lying in a hospital bed in a long-term care facility somewhere in a persistant vegetative state. I figured this out last night, when I swear I could hear a steady beep...beep...beep in my right ear, and through blurred half open eyes in the murky darkness I could barely make out a yellow Post-It note stuck next to a big red button with "Please Do Not Push... I MEAN IT THIS TIME!" written on it.

I didn't think anything of it then, but I did sleep later than normal today.

Now that I know I'm not really conscious, I guess I can finally cut loose. I mean, as long as they don't jack me full of some kind of weird experimental wake-up drug.

So, a test. I'm going to teach Skippy and the Beast a pantload of dirty limericks.

In the real world, the Beast would spout off "There Once Was A Man From Nantucket" when asked to lead the Pledge of Allegiance (he gets nervous), and I'll end up sitting in the principal's office. In my new alternate reality, nothing will happen.

This won't be the first test. For months now, Skippy and the Prince have been playing the penis game. Yes, the penis game. It's really not as bad as it sounds, the goal is to shout PENIS! as loud as you can in the most crowded or unacceptable place you can. For example, The Prince got busted when he shouted "PENIS!" in the Junior High cafeteria. Skippy, being only four years old, will get on the telephone extension. So I'll be on the phone, and they'll be a sudden click, a couple of seconds of heavy breathing, and right before I can warn my caller or hang up the phone, the word "PENIS!" rolls down the wire into the conversation like a fart in church.

For some reason, maddmom and I have done nothing about this. So if you are reading this in my brain, keep your kids away from my dirty-mouthed little punks.

So obviously, I'm in an alternate reality. When I wake up, there will be hell to pay. Really.

Just as soon as I stop laughing.

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