Thursday, July 8, 2010

The youngest comes into her own...I think

Okay, to catch you up: It's been a very long time since we last spoke, so here's the news in my life. I now have two semesters on the Dean's List under my belt. I'm losing weight again (thanks to eating better, or at least less) and I'm now in my summer internship for a heating and cooling company, and I couldn't be enjoying it any greater than I am now.

Justeen has been petulant, loud, obnoxious and stubborn. Sometimes all in one day! She's learning quickly however that daddy doesn't mess around anymore, the days of being pushed around, and trying to be her best friend are over. I want her to like me, but I want her to know that she does not rule around here. Sure, she's my princess, but that doesn't mean she can act like it.

Lorelei, since becoming bi-pedal, has quickly become The Monkey. In all shapes and forms. She is fast! She climbs all over everything to get into anything she can get her little paws on. She is developing attitude and personality. Which leads us to this evening:

My wife came home from work in a foul mood after a bad day at work. I came home from work ten minutes earlier in a great mood from work (as is the norm lately). This dude comes walking down the street and lets his dog start sniffing for a place to go. The passive-aggressive wuss I am, stands inside the house, looking out the window, shaking my fist and yelling at the windowpane: "You'd better not let your dog shit in my yard!" Which inspires my wife to see what's going on, at which time, she opens the door, and asks the guy if the dog went in the yard. She then tells him to get it out. She has kids that like to play in the yard and she doesn't need them playing with shit. He says: "Can I go back to my house and get something to do it?" She says: "You've got hands." The whole time wifey is yelling at this guy, Rory, in her diaper and nothing else, starts pointing her little finger and shaking her fist at the guy and yelling at him in baby-speak. Also, wifey is outside yelling at this guy in her bike shorts and tank top, ready for Tae Kwon Do.

Later, I told her, that she is one step down a slippery slope away from a moumou and curlers. She says now that she's afraid that she's going to open the door to a flaming bag of dog poo.

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