Free-Floating Hostility

Monday, July 18, 2005


Guns, Germs and Steel--Except not Steel. Or Guns.

Mikey is down with a nasty bug that kept us from supper with Alex and April tonight. He is very sad. It's only a matter of hours before I get it too, because that's how germs generally work at FFH. We have it coming though, since according to blog records we haven't had any palpable infection for seven and a half months.

In more cheerful news I really really really want to watch March of the Penguins. Here is a story about penguins and families: when I was about two years old, my mom took it into her head to institute the practice of sharing ones dreams each morning over breakfast (she'd read somewhere it was an Italian custom I think). So for about four consecutive mornings when she woke me up from my crib she asked me what dreams I had had the night before, and for about for consecutive mornings she received the answer, "I had a dream about a lovely baby penguin that loved its Mommy." Around the fourth morning she said to herself, "Shit. I'm being humored by a two-year-old."

4 Comment(s):

  •   Posted by Blogger Prof. Trixie at July 18, 2005 8:19 PM | Permanent Link to this Comment
  • I forbid you to be sick. This is an order from Trixie

  •   Posted by Blogger Prof. Trixie at July 19, 2005 9:52 AM | Permanent Link to this Comment
  • Department of Amplification re: Penguin Story from Trixie

    First, the look on the two year old's face was the most false expression of ingratiation I have seen from that day to this. A poison sugar smile. A grin that can only be called shit eating. My interpreation: a determination, even at age 2, to keep one's mother out of one's unconscious. So unfair.

  •   Posted by Blogger Prof. Trixie at July 19, 2005 9:52 AM | Permanent Link to this Comment
  • Department of Amplification re: Penguin Story from Trixie

    First, the look on the two year old's face was the most false expression of ingratiation I have seen from that day to this. A poison sugar smile. A grin that can only be called shit eating. My interpreation: a determination, even at age 2, to keep one's mother out of one's unconscious. So unfair.

  •   Posted by Blogger Jeff'y at July 19, 2005 9:38 PM | Permanent Link to this Comment
  • Stereo amplification, no less!

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