Week Seven- Family Weekend
Just before Christmas, one of my siblings gave birth to their third kid. That brought the grand total up to six nieces and nephews. Add some parents and siblings to the mix, a few grandparents; we have quite the clan. Hence, thirteen people all in one house for a four-day weekend. While I was there, and on my way there, I attempted to try a few new things.
—Flying in the very back. Did you know that 75% of disputes on planes are caused by reclining seats? Fact. Honest.
My great plan was to take a seat in the very back. I secretly hoped that they laid out the seats with the thought of, “Oh. We have a few extra inches back here. We already bolted down the other seats. Eh, might as well give them a inch or two wiggle room extra.” I cannot prove it, but I am pretty sure I was right. At the same time, I switched from United to Alaska. The seat-situation on United simply did not work for my build. Alaska gave me leg room and then some. (I was not cozy, but it was far better.)
Plus, you get to people watch the entire time! I was on the aisle. To my immediate left was the bathroom. For almost the entire flight, people were coming to see me. Sure they used the bathroom, but simply because it was there. We all know that they wanted to stroll down the aisle and barely acknowledge my presence. I am that charming of a guy. Really.
There was only one time when I regretted not holding my breath when the bathroom door opened. I ought to have seen it coming. No one to blame but myself. The plane had not even finished ascending when this guy made straight for the bathroom, unlocked the door that the flight attendants had secured, and forced his way inside. He emerged five to seven minutes later. I should have held my breath. Live and learn.
Back row from now on! It was not even as loud as I feared. Darned engines.
(And you know you will be the last one off, so there is no need to stand around waiting for the cabin door to open. Sib back, relax, and find some busy work for those extra five minutes.)
–Changing Time. My best friend has two kids. Six nieces and nephews. Kids all over. Yet I had survived never changing a diaper. Not once. Until now. I told my sister that I was attempting new things. I suggested that if she happened to have a soiled diaper at some point in the four days I was around, she should let me know. Go figure, she was able to accommodate my request.
I got off pretty easy. All number one, no number two. And the munchkin was female, so she lacked the equipment to dispense a surprise attack up at my face. No crying, no trauma, and my sister helped. In and out in a few seconds. Was it an epic achievement the likes of which the world will write songs about? Nope. But I learned to swipe down, not up, and marveled at just how big those Velcro tabs have gotten.
–Scavenging. My family is big on puzzles. My mom is the worst, doing jigsaw puzzles, crossword puzzles, and to this day I do not understand how she gets through Freecell. (Not once have I made any headway. Stupid game!)
On Easter, we took it to another level. There was no simple egg hunt. No, we had clues. “Time is running out”, one scrap of paper would say. So we went to the grandfather clock. There we would find another scrap suggesting that we travel to the Ivory Coast, which was probably a hint to go look at the piano. (No elephants were harmed in our hunting.) You get the idea. A proposal in my family included a maze. We are puzzle people.
I was ready to fly home. The kids were getting loud. So I grabbed some jellybeans, put them in a bag, and thought about what different places there were and how I could form clues around them. Of course I used the grandfather clock. And the piano. (Tradition should count, darnit.) I suggested they did not have a remote chance of figuring the clue out. I instructed them to map out a plan. Etcetera. That kept them busy for a solid half hour. The sugar at the end probably evened up the amount of energy they used running around the house and outside. Either way, I got to practice my puppet-master ways. Next stop, those pesky kids and their meddling dog.
Week Eight- Twitter Time
While I was away from home, I heard a patently ridiculous phrase. A phrase that surprised me. In context, sure it made sense. But spoken out loud, it gained a presence that stuck with me. I knew this phrase could not go unsaid. So I joined Twitter and shared it.
Now, I have been reluctant to make that final media leap until now. It feels to me like a never ending barrage of status updates. If you have the comedic chops of Anna Kendrick, then go for it. Please. I like to think I do, but my life is rather tame.
However, I work in customer service. I walk around downtown. I hear some stupid phrases. I enjoy taking things out of context. So once a week I am going to share these gloriously quirky tidbits of conversation and share them with the masses. (I used to host a Monday Media section on this site. Part of that is being revived, with a little video clip on Mondays and pointless trivia on Fridays.) I will see if I have enough horribly awry phrases and nuggets for three posts a week.
Subscribe or follow along and see if I succeed! Hey, what else do you have to do while the plane prepares to un-board?
Update 4/20: I gave up on Twitter. (Shrug) It just is not my thing. Maybe I will try again some other time, but not currently.
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