While I was off racing at Oran Park late 07 we got a new government, and I forgot to blog about it. Mum always used to say "Don't talk about religion and politics". Well, I've pretty much stuffed that bigtime for the last 38 years. But it seems our brilliantly gifted Naomi shows the same disregard; late last year, I noticed she had defaced a copy of the Herald Sun which was lying around. It must have been following a visit from the Horsham Grandparents, since that's the only way the Herald Sun would ever find it's way into our house (what can I say, I prefer to be correctly informed, not dazzled with magic). It was also about the time a bit of cheap journalism had dragged up footage of poor Kevin Rudd eating his own ear wax during question time. Big deal. So I chew my fingernails. Besides, everybody knows poor Rudd, like so many others, have been forced into eating their ear taters due to the crippling poverty caused by the evil John Howard (because before JH and GWB there was no such thing as poverty).
Anyhoo, on this day in November 07 Omi had taken a pen to every page of this beacon of media integrity, occasionally by drawing moustaches on people, which is fine and befitting of someone in her age group, but also with some interesting commentary. One of them was written below a current picture of our new PM, and said;
Kevin Rudd needs some cotton buds for Christmas
No cynical, jaded and sarcastic political commentary from me could possibly top that. So you're all off the hook.
Apart from this:
One of these people appears to wear lipstick, and it's not the one on the left. Seriously Kevin, stop licking your lips so much. We will not be taken seriously as a nation and as a result will probably be attacked by terrorists, or worse, Iranians, who hang men who look like they wear lipstick
As I write this Sharon has just enjoyed her first half-day without 3 kids for almost 2 months. Little Becky-boo was a first time school kiddy today and has been rabitting excitedly on about her impending promotion for most of that 2 months. Well, most of last year actually. But I was a good Dad. Not once did I say anything like "you don't know what you're saying" or "the novelty will wear off instantly" or "glad you're looking forward to it... mwhahahBWAHAHAHA....".
No, I should just be glad she relishes the idea of school. I am not-too-old enough to remember that I used to HATE being told "Ha! School! They're the best years of your life!". Used to hate it. Don't now- because it's BLUDDY WELL TRUE.
What the...are they...is that...are they... actually ALL SMILING AT THE SAME TIME??! What are the odds?
So that was two months of grafitti-ing, denting, scratching, spreading rodent-related debris around and other general carnage. Although we did hear, from some other parents, of this thing where you "find things for them to do, like going to the pool or a park". Brilliant idea. We'll note it down for next time.
However, one of the things I cannot blame the kids for breaking, and (finally) a good excuse for not taking them to the park, is this;
That's right. Jan 7th was the date of my postponed-from-'07 surgical procedure- Hallux Valgus correction. Which is just a sexy name for angle-grind-bits-of-bone-from-bunion and force-the-big-toe-straight operation. Sharon once described to me exactly how they do it and I really wish she hadn't. So now my foot looks like this.
But that's not the gross and potentially offensive photo I was referring to, I'll get to that at the end of the post. Now in case you're wondering, the post-op foot in question is the one on the left. I put the right side one there, partly because I had no choice because it's attached to my other leg, and partly for comparison purposes. Or maybe you already worked it out because the left one looks like the udder from a dead, bloated, purple cow.
So I won't be walking for a while without some assistance. It did involve two and a bit weeks off work which was gainfully used to watch the Oz open tennis and over $100 worth of DVD's.
When the DVD supply ran out and with two weeks of total boredom and immobility, I found it amazing what you can do with that interweb thingy. Between the cricket and the tennis finals I managed to locate the Ark of the Covenant, just by googling (Indiana Jones was wrong, it ain't in Tunisia). Then I learned that Bill Clinton's husband Hillary is really a confused woman with a potty mouth, and Gazan Palestinians apparently need over half a tonne of flour per day...each. I was about to discover a cure for Alzheimer's but I had to go back to work.
Okay, now for the gross and potentially offensive photo. I can't let a posting go by without a rant, so: This post was brought to you by the government agency who rejected an online literary award for a version of The Three Little Pigs because it was deemed too offensive to Muslims, cowboys and builders.