My Dog Has Fleas!!

There is a certain little song that you've probably heard at some point in your life. It's totally idiotic and I can't really reference where I've heard it but it goes like:

"My Dog Has Fleas!"

I have no idea where this stupid little phrase originated but I've been working on a similar tune for the last couple of days. It goes a little like this: "My Kids Have Lice!" Has a nice ring to it, right? "My Kids Have Lice!"

Makes for a pretty funny song however there is nothing funny about kids with lice. Maybe I should change that statement. There is nothing funny about MY kids with lice.

That's right, on Wednesday night instead of enjoying a nice stress-inducing evening of window repair I was battling a plague of pestilence in my own living room.

It all started when I was blow drying Number Two's hair. She said her ear was itchy. Always the positive thinker, my first thought was, "Oh No! LICE!"

I turned off the blow dryer parted the hair above her ear and found a friggin swarm of disgust (SILENT SCREAM). OK, swarm of disgust might be a little over the top, but you have to cut me some slack, this was my first encounter with lice.

After this I went and checked the other two kids and confirmed that I indeed had the complete set of (3) Licey Head Girls. That's just great! I can only assume that I am also one of the unclean. UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN!!

So what do I do now? Jules has the van at work until 11:30pm and it was already almost bedtime for the kids. I figured I may as well spread the good news so I fired a text off to Jules. After she mentioned the text to her supervisor Jules got sent home from work (UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN!) and was able to pick up 'the cure' (I have no idea what it was called) and some lice combs.

It turned out that Jules and I were both lice free (for now, cross your fingers). We were then able to treat the kids at a reasonable hour before bed which was a huge relief. I thought lice were gross before I'd seen any but now, after cleaning them out of someone elses hair, I can say for a fact that they are even grosser than I thought. During the combing process I bet I picked at least 30 lice off of my shirt (SHUDDER!).

The next day the kids stayed home from school because Number One was still showing lots of licey activity on her melon. The first stuff Jules got was some non-chemical stuff that seals the lice and cuts off oxygen. Today she went and got the real deal, Nix! Stuffed full of chemically goodness! She treated all of the kids with the Nix and cleaned all the household crap that needed to get cleaned and as of last night things seemed to be under control.

Now we get to look forward to a week of combing for nits followed by another Nix wash. Not to mention the countless hours spent itching my head and thinking I have lice. UNCLEAN!! UNCLEAN!!

Window Pain!

One of the front doors to our house has been missing a pane of glass for at least 3 years. It isn't a big pane, just 6.25" x 11.5", but it is big enough that it causes an insane draft to get through the inside door throughout the winter. In fact during the Christmas holidays we store pop and beer next to the door to keep cold and have, on occassion, found bottles of beer that had become frozen solid (THIS IS INSIDE THE HOUSE!).

About a week and a half ago I decided that now was the time to finally get this job taken care of. I grabbed Number Three and together we headed out to get us some glass. After researching the glass market in town I found that had a grand total of one place that cuts custom sized pieces. So we headed on over. Of course it turned out that this particular business is only open on weekdays and I was out on a Saturday. We looked around town for a couple of hours to no avail. This job was going to have to wait. Not a great start.

Fast forward to the next Friday. I'm at work thinking, 'Alright, this is the weekend! I'm finally going to fix that damned window!' I called the glass store first thing in the morning and placed my order. I asked what time I would be able to pick up the glass and was told. "Not until Monday. Our glass cutter is off for the weekend." GRRRRRR! What do you mean off for the weekend it's Friday morning and, wait a second isn't he off every weekend anyway???

Tuesday I finally went to pick up my glass. While I was at the glass store I needed to get some of those little tacks that hold the glass in place and some window putty. They had both of these items but only in the lifetime supply size (50 tacks and a huge lump of putty). I took them and laughed to the lady about how I could now feel free to break some more windows.

After I got home from work I started on my window repair immediately. I was so excited I just couldn't wait! I popped the glass into the frame. It fit like a glove. Now to tack it in. Just put the tack on the end of a flat-headed screwdriver and push. Simple. I loaded the tack onto my screwdriver placed the tack against the frame and pushed. Then I watched in frustration as the tack shot off to the left at 100mph (I'm lucky I didn't lose an eye). I loaded another tack onto my screwdriver and pushed it into the frame. About halfway into the frame the tack bent. I figure for every 6-7 attempts I got one tack inserted. I was starting to wonder if 50 tacks were going to be enough. This went on for close to an hour. How many tacks was I putting in? 100? 200? Nope, I was putting in 10. An hour later I was sweating like a pig and losing patience rapidly. Everything was looking good but I thought I could use one more tack at the top, just to be sure. I loaded up the screwdriver one last time. I pushed the tack partway into the frame. One last push and I could move on to the putty portion of the repair. I applied pressure and just as the tack became seated I heard a devastating sound. TINK.

The glass cracked neatly down the center.

Hmmmmm! Most unfortunate. "FUCK!!!" I screamed. I can't even describe the feeling. Was that the glass cracking or my mind? Suddely I felt like Ironman. I wanted to strap on some heavy boots of lead and stomp the shit out of everything I saw. The window, the door, the screwdriver, the old lady walking by on the sidewalk, the BBQ, basically if I saw it I wanted it smashed. Something was going to have to pay for me breaking that glass. I was angry at the world and I wasn't going to let it get away with pulling that kind of shit on me! So I stomped around the house and slammed some doors until I felt that I'd gotten my point across to the world.

"Take that world!! That's what you get! Yeah! You want some of this? C'mon! Get Some!! Get Some!! Bitch! Think about THAT next time you make me break a $3 piece of glass."

I then put away all of my tools and supplies.

Today I called the glass place and ordered another pane. For the sake of the world let's hope it goes well this time.

Worst Tooth Fairy Ever

I don't know about the Tooth Fairy these day. I've noticed, around our house anyway, that the Tooth Fairy seems to be getting pretty sloppy at her job since my baby tooth days.

When I was a kid the tooth fairy made it on time for every tooth I ever lost. It seems now that the Tooth Fairy has become a hit or miss type of Sprite. We've had instances where the Tooth Fairy hasn't shown up until 2 or 3 days after the tooth fell out.

The last time Number One lost a tooth it was a good three days before the Tooth Fairy made with the cash and when she did it was scattered all over Number One's bed in such a way that we almost didn't find it.

Last night Number Two had a tooth fall out. Maybe 'fall out' isn't the right word, I should have said 'ripped out'. Last night Number Two had a tooth ripped out. She was innocently biting Number One's coat sleeve when Number One yanked her arm away pulling both the coat sleeve and the not-overly-loose tooth out of Number Two's mouth. Of course they were standing in our gravel driveway at the time.

Me and Jules were inside the house when this happened. We heard Number Two coming in saying that Number One pulled her tooth out. All I was thinking at this point was, "Please, let it be a baby tooth! Please, let it be a baby tooth!" Much to my relief it was in fact a baby tooth. Anyway after getting all the facts I headed outside to try and find the lost tooth. After spending 10 minutes looking and realizing that every pebble in the driveway looked just like a tooth I gave up.

Number Two was very upset that the Tooth Fairy might not come because the tooth was lost. I told her not to worry and that the Tooth Fairy would still come and leave her some money.

Well wouldn't you know it that damned Tooth Fairy didn't show up!! I swear if I ever get my hands on that bitch, she'll be sorry!

So this morning there was poor little Number Two sitting on the couch all sad because the Tooth Fairy didn't come. I told Number Two about when I lost my first tooth. It fell out at school during recess and landed in a snow bank to be lost forever. My Mom had me write a note to the Tooth Fairy and, sure enough, the next morning I had a shiny quarter under my pillow. I told her that she should probably write a note to the Tooth Fairy that explained how she'd lost her tooth and that would likely work. So off she went to get her note ready and put it under her pillow, full of expectations for tonight.

So, if you happen to be the Tooth Fairy stumbling upon this blog, here is a little message for you: If there isn't any money under that pillow tomorrow morning there is going to be hell to pay. I've got lots of kids and lots of baby teeth on the way. You wouldn't want to reach under the pillow and find a rat trap or something worse now would you?

I Hate Tim Hortons!!

For anyone who doesn't live in Canada, Tim Horton's is a coffee/donut chain and for some reason people here go crazy for their shit. It's almost as if people here think that the coffee is especially Canadian.

Why do I hate Tim's? Is it the product? No, I don't think the coffee there is any worse than any other coffee shop. Is it the service? Not really, although I think it is totally idiotic not to accept debit cards.

The reason I hate Tim Hortons is because of all the losers who think that Tim's is the end all, be all of coffee. You know the type, the ones who refer to their coffee as 'My Timmies' as in "I had to wait in line for 2 hours this morning to get my Timmies". These are the same "Double-double" or "Triple-triple" ordering assholes who seem to get off on knowing the secret Tim's lingo.

What I really don't understand is what makes normally intelligent people sit behind 30 other cars in a drive-thru every fucking morning to get a cup of regular run of the mill coffee. Does it taste better when you say double-double as opposed to 2 creams, 2 sugars? I'd wager that these are the same people who get irrate when they have to wait 5 minutes to get in to see the doctor.

Usually, just before 9am, you can see people driving like a bat out of hell, trying to get their coffee and still make it to work on time. They cut people off, speed, run yellow lights, whatever it takes to beat at least one other person to the drive thru (and does it really make that much difference if you are 25th in line or 26th in line?). These people have just risked their lives and the lives of others for what? To basically shave 20 seconds off of the amount of time they need to wait in line. Yippee!! Now it's only going to take 23 minutes!! These people fully realize that the line up is long enough that they will never make it to work on time. So what do they do? They fucking wait!! It seems like it has become acceptable to arrive late for work in the morning so long as it was due to a long line up at Tim Hortons. From now on I'm keeping an empty Tim Hortons cup on me just in case I'm ever late. Work will say, "Hey CanadaDad, you're half an hour late today. What's up with that?" I'll hold up my Tim's cup and all will be forgiven.

When I first noticed the strange behavior of Tim Horton patrons I chalked it all up to local hicks getting overly excited about a new business in town, as is the norm in Brandon. As time went by and the behavior got worse I realized that it wasn't just the novelty of a new business. I then started to think that it must be a local thing, only in Brandon could people get this excited about coffee. I was becoming embarrassed that I lived in a community full of sheep that could get that worked up over a cup of joe. Then I realized that this isn't local at all. It seems that all over the country people are becoming totally irrational about Tim Hortons coffee.

What is it that makes these otherwise normal people act in such an irrational way? Drugs in the coffee? Not likely but it would definitely explain a lot.

Are these people so desperate to belong to something (ANYTHING) that they feel if they drink enough Tims coffee that they will be part of some group/clique?

Maybe they think that Tim Hortons is somehow related to being a true Canadian. Maybe they think that by supporting Tim Hortons that they are being patriotic Canadians or showing that they are proud to be Canadian. As stupid as it sounds I really think that this is the reason. That is what a person would think from watching the commercials on Hockey Night in Canada. The sad part is that Tim Hortons is owned by Wendy's, an American company so really it supports Canada about as much as buying a Biggie Fries and Shake. If you want to support Canadian business take a walk down to one of your locally owned coffee shops, you'll likely get faster and friendlier service as well as a better product.

If you need proof that Tim Hortons is making the population of Canada stupider check out This Link. This truly makes me sick.