Or, maybe more appropriately, Chinese.
At the end of the school year, we received a letter home from Monkey Man's school that they were going to introduce a new part of the curriculum for the 2008 - 2009 school year:
At first, I was a little irritated. How about Spanish, since it's becoming increasingly useful (especially around these parts)? But then I thought - well, that's cool.
Until I saw the homework. With no instructions on what the hell he's supposed to do. So I guess we'll be taking a stab at it and I'm sure she'll let us know next Friday when he turns it in if he did the right thing. All I can think, though, as I look at the sheet that she gave him, is that it's going to be a hell of a long year. Mandarin Chinese will be the death of me, I'm afraid.
Monkey Man's first football game of the season was cancelled this weekend thanks to the tropical storm or monsoon or whatever it was we had yesterday. It rained cats and dogs most of the day and although the wind wasn't really bad it was WET.
Somehow, the dog got outside and ended up cowering on the front porch without anyone realizing he was out there. Eventually, I went looking for him and found him there, so he happily burst through the front door and spent the next few hours hiding in the laundry room spooning with his dry food bucket.
Later on, I tried to get him back outside and he wasn't having any parts of that. So he remained in the laundry room until heard Joey and Monkey Man goofing around in the basement with the football so of course he had to go galumphing down the stairs. (Note: If you ever have the opportunity to watch a corgi go down stairs, you should definitely watch from a safe place. Anatomically, they are not designed to go down the stairs like a normal dog so they do this crosswise gallumph all the way down...and if you're in the way, Lord help you.)
I was parked on the sofa watching some idiotic TV when I heard Joey start yelling at the dog. I went running downstairs and apparently, Rufus had gotten so excited that two perfect pieces of shit had come rocketing straight out of his ass.
I guess he was so excited his poor little sphincter finally relaxed and...well, all I can say is thank God that Cat Door gifted me with some fantastic enzyme carpet cleaner from Peestravaganza 2008.
I just realized that I hadn't talked about Cat Door in a long time. He's been busy. Really busy. Like so busy that most days he barely takes lunch and is working from 6 AM until 6 PM.
A few months ago, he was going into Home Depot when he saw this bum-looking character hanging around as usual. The guy would always kind of wave at him and of course, Cat Door always gave him The Marine Nod and moved on his way. That day was different, though - the guy asked if Cat Door would give him a job. He said yeah, but only on a provisional basis.
So here we are a few months later, and Al - the Bum - is still working for him. Why, I'm not sure, because these are just a few of the highlights of Al's employment:
*His first week, Cat Door paid him and then got a phone call not even 24 hours later that Al had gotten drunk and lost all his money. And wanted a loan.
*Two weeks after that, Al was getting ready to get evicted from his trailer so he decided to go door-to-door in the trailer park trying to pick up side jobs fixing things so he could get rent money. He ended up finding two women who were in the same predicament so they all decided to move in together. Then I guess Al and one of the ladies (ahem) started hooking up, so Cat Door was treated to reports on an hourly basis about how Al hadn't gotten laid in SIX YEARS and damn, he'd forgotten what he was missing. Keep in mind, this guy is 62 years old - I'm just hoping he doesn't have a heart attack or something after a drought like that.
*A few weeks later, Al told him that he had to take a half-day off in order to bomb his trailer for roaches. Cat Door had the other helper drive Al home (because, of course, he hasn't had a driver's license in like 20 years), and when the helper came back he said, "Mike, I don't think he's going home to bomb his trailer. He had me drop him off at the liquor store." Three hours later, Al started drunk-dialing Cat Door's cell phone every 10 minutes for the next few hours even after Cat Door cut his cell phone off. He also quit about five or six times. Eventually, the next day, he called Cat Door and asked if he could have his job back.
*He lost his cheapo Wal-Mart reading glasses, but instead of fessing up he came on to work without saying a word. He then proceeded to cut 27 pieces of siding incorrectly because he couldn't see.
*Last Monday, he called in sick because he said he'd had a little accident. The following day, he showed up with an elbow swollen up to the size of a grapefruit - he'd chipped the bone in a car accident. Oh, and he needed another loan.
So I think over the past few months, he's averaged about three days a week. Cat Door was bitching on Friday about how busy he's been and how he really wants to go on a motocross trip to Vegas in October and he doesn't have anyone reliable to keep an eye on things while he's gone. "Why, Mike, can't you hire anyone decent?" I asked.
"Liz - I can't afford decent. I can afford breathing with a pulse."
And I'm thinking that surely Al must've worked for Joey at some point, because that's exactly the caliber of employee that they have at The Bane of My Existence.
Have a great Monday, y'all.