Posted on September 21st, 2012
Today is a slightly unusual day. M has a conference, so he had time to go with me to drop off Pea. It made for a slightly less stressed morning routine.
It turned into a very silly morning.
My morning (if we ignore Pea’s 5:30 “I have to go potty” yelling from her room and the “Then just freaking climb down and go!” and “I can’t! It’s TOO DARK!” hysteria) (re)starts with M’s alarm going off. It plays this:
(And yes, it’s this precise version.)
For days beforehand, I thought I was dreaming this, that it was some sick and twisted product of my subconscious. I mean, he lived in Germany for years and never managed to learn any German (unless we count “macht schnell!”), so why would it be his alarm? In any case, as Ohrwurms go, this one sucks. I can’t get it out of my head. If you clicked the link…you’re welcome.
A little while later, he asks, “So you think our ancestors used to try to kill each other?”
Me: “Yeah, probably.” (I think this is a historical certainty, but I don’t do my best thinking at 6 AM.)
M: “They probably didn’t try. They probably actually did.”
Me: (thinking about timing of breeding and all that) “…”
Downstairs, pumpkin spice bagels. That’s WTF all on its own. I’m caught between loving them and hating them. I want to love them and they smell good, but I am an onion or egg bagel girl.
After about 300 calories of bagel and cream cheese, Pea demands more food. I told her she could get her milk out of the fridge from last night. M looks. “Does her cup runneth over?” (You really can’t say the word “cup” around M and not get this, along with snickering. I don’t know why.)
I said, “No, it’s a sippy cup. It can’t runneth over.” And then I couldn’t stop giggling. I don’t know why, either. (Technically: no, it’s not a sippy cup. It’s a Nalgene with a one-way valve.)
Pea drew a smiley face on the condensation on the car window. M looked back when we were driving and said, “I looked over and the smiley face was CRYING.” (The condensate ran down the face.) More giggling, this in the vein of “holy fuck, I’m about to lose it.”
Pea: “WHAT IS SO FUNNY?”
In the car, the iPod landed on “There is Beauty in the Bellow of the Blast.”
M: Leaning over, “I thought she sang ‘elephant poo!’”
Me: Crying. I am losing my shit now.
No, I have no idea which line he thought was “elephant poo.”
Then, somehow, it turned into a discussion of pronouns. I expressed my hatred of “hir” as a gender-neutral pronoun (HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE) and M threw in with why the hell do we care what the British decided about pronouns (I think this was a reaction to “one” or use of the male pronoun) and we should have just followed everything Benjamin Franklin said. Adopted German as a national language or just turned English into a completely phonetic language. Used the turkey as the national bird.
Me: German? From you? Really?
M: OK, so he had some bad ideas. The turkey was a good one.
And now I am at the usual coffee shop and I am unable to stop laughing.
It’s a good thing it’s Friday.