Dad Does Hair

With all this positive reinforcement for moms, let's also give a round of applause for those single dads who do their daughters' hair and get their costumes assembled in time for dance class pictures. In our case, two classes = two complete costume & hair days in one week. Good thing I have had 1) a modicum of theatrical experience and 2) past experience as an owner of long hair. Kayleigh looks like the spawn of an 1880s saloon dancer and a 1920s flapper, which is perfect for the theme of the recital this year, Viva Las Vegas. It's a much better costume than last year.

The kids made me Mother's Day cards, which I told them they didn't have to do. But I still appreciate the sentiment. Kayleigh's came on green construction paper, with a beautiful pipe-cleaner & tissue paper flower taped to it. Scrawled in big letters (in Sharpie) is: HAPPY MOTHER'S/FATHER'S DAY, DAD! Then there's an additional note: Look what's inside the flower! Lift the flap and see! So you open up the petals of the tissue paper flower and there's a little bee inside, saying: "I'm happy to bee your child!" That one hit me hard, and I hugged her. A lot.

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The demolition guys are almost done with the tearout. When I checked on them today, they were vacuuming out the insulation in the attic and the old furnace was sitting in the carport. Yep, that's the one. Look at it, sitting there in a pool of its own oily excrement. Good riddance, ya bastard.

I will take more pics of the tearout and reconstruction as it happens, most likely posting some this week. In the meantime, here's a shot of my house with a pile of debris in front. Oooooooh.

Oh, and someone stole my lawnmower. My sloth of an electric mower with a 100ft extension cord. Gone. They left the kids' Razor trikes (the ones that look like chrome Big Wheels) and Tyler's bike and the hedge trimmer. It reminds me of Gilbert Godfried's standup act about Moby Dick (paraphrased): "I was talking to Herman Melville the other day, and I said, 'Herm, what's all this with the one-legged sea captain chasing the big whale? Are we to believe that there's this little teeny guy, and this giant whale, and the whale just takes the leg?? BIG WHALE, LITTLE GUY, JUST THE LEG!'"

That's the problem with not living in one's own home - I could have heard someone getting into my shed if we were still in our house, but it's hard to hear a lawnmower being stolen across the street. Or a giant whale taking the leg off a little teeny sea captain. Which actually sounds like a euphemism for a sex act one could purchase in White Center... "Excuse me, you know where I could get the leg off my little sea captain?"

Sorry for the tangents... it's sunny and 80 degrees in Seattle, and I think I probably have ISD (Impending Summer Delerium).

Still hitting the gym six days a week (and on Sunday, Todd rested), and doing upper body three times a week. It's helping.