RMers with kids

[spike]

We realized somewhere over the Pacific that we’d potentially left arguably my kid’s favorite stuffed animal in our hotel room in Melbourne. Had her Nana call there and it was found. She will pick it up and keep it until our return in a couple months.

[spike]

The kid has pink eye in both eyes. There’ve been a couple cases reported in her class recently, so not surprising. I noticed some redness around her eyes yesterday, but then it seemed to go away. This morning, her eyes looked slight puffy, and upon closer inspection she had all sorts of crusty goop around her peepers. Did teledoc to get the antibiotic drops, so hopefully we’ve caught it before it worsens. It doesn’t seem to be bothering her, at least.

[spike]

She also woke up in the middle of the night wanting me to get in bed with her, so I’m just waiting to get it myself.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[dad]

yeah, someone has to bare ass fart on your pillow.

[spike]

It can be viral as well as bacterial.

[dad]

sure, but it’s a viral fart.

[Higgs]

yeah, someone has to bare ass fart on your pillow.

I'll need to be careful about this when NumbersUp finally stops the teasing and actually DOES fart on my cock.

Don't need no pinkeye.

[spike]

My kid wanted to play school, and we're the kids. My wife’s name was Princess Aurora and my name was Vomit.

[wease]

Ya gotta love kids

[B]

So, Ms. B likes to join Facebook parents groups, and she's in one for the college where Thing #1 is headed next month.

A parent wanted to know if they could bring a bigger refrigerator for their kid b/c their kid didn't like the food at the dining hall and wanted to do grocery shopping and make their own food.

Now, we went to orientation today, and the dining hall, to which students have unlimited access, had burgers, hot dogs, fries, bulkogi, gyros, BBQ sandwiches, beef stroganoff, roast chicken, 3 different kinds of cooked veggies, pizza, chicken nuggets, veggie "chicken" nuggets, a salad bar, a yogurt and fruit bar, stir fry, and a fridge with little pre-packaged muffins, and a dessert station. They even had a food allergy station for kids with common allergies.

Can someone please tell me what that kid eats on a regular basis, and what they think they're going to make in their dorm room in a mini-microwave that is going to be better than the options in that dining hall, which by the way, is only 1 of 5 on campus, 1 of which specializes in a rotating selection of international favorites?

[B]

Ms. B refuses to go back to the group and ask what that kid is going to buy/make.

[wease]

I hope she also refused permission for a bigger fridge.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[wease]

… and she's in one for the collect there Thing #1 is headed next month.

I gotta say, deciphering Papa Wease’s texts has made me pretty much an expert at making out what gobbledegook really means, but I can’t figure out what you’re saying here at all.

[wease]

My hunch is it’s less about his preferred diet, and more about the fact that he’s an incel gamer type who never wants to leave his dorm room

Yep

[B]

… and she's in one for the collect there Thing #1 is headed next month.

I gotta say, deciphering Papa Wease’s texts has made me pretty much an expert at making out what gobbledegook really means, but I can’t figure out what you’re saying here at all.

There were 3 letters wrong, but i fixed it for you.

[B]

My hunch is it’s less about his preferred diet, and more about the fact that he’s an incel gamer type who never wants to leave his dorm room

Yep

Y'know, then why would you need a bigger fridge. Just fill your closet with ramen.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[wease]

… and she's in one for the collect there Thing #1 is headed next month.

I gotta say, deciphering Papa Wease’s texts has made me pretty much an expert at making out what gobbledegook really means, but I can’t figure out what you’re saying here at all.

There were 3 letters wrong, but i fixed it for you.

I figured college out. I couldn’t get where.