August 21, 2008

they broke my happiness

First, if you recall my disgusting fast-food chain, “McGross,” and the 3-day old raw meat, melted margarine, and french-fry escapees that have littered my personal space recently, then you will appreciate the newly-added menu item: an entire Route 44 Cherry Limeade. Yep, we were on our way to deliver this Sonic Happy Hour giganticup to a certain someone who shall remain nameless (Mike) when I turned left and the cup turned right and Kevin wasn’t holding it and it landed upside down on his feet, his schoolbooks, and the already-bacteria-laden floor mat. So after a trip through the car wash to hose down the mat we headed back to sonic to repurchase drink part deux. (Sidebar: Why isn't it "Happy Hours" since it takes place from 2 to 4?)

Second, I love my new BPA-free Camelbak water bottle, except when it lives up to its “camel” name and spits water at me. Now, I don’t know how this happened. I should probably ask Bill Nye the Science Guy or Beakman or somebody skilled in the art of gas-siphoning, but anyway . . . I put my water bottle in the fridge. A few hours later I took my water bottle out of the fridge and placed it on my desk. I did not drink out of it, nor did I open it. The next morning, however, I placed it in front of me, and glanced to the left while flipping open the sippy-straw. By the time I realized “Old Faithful” had erupted from my water bottle, I was drenched. I’m talking a constant stream of water, shooting 8 inches above the straw for a good solid 4 seconds! Even my shoes were squishy.

Finally, the boys play ball in my office. Used to be a daily routine, but because of this summer’s wedding surplus, my office has been “off limits” to any of Mike & Kevin's recreational activities. Now that I have reclaimed my work space, so have they, and in true Olympic fashion they have announced, “Let the Games Begin!”

Now when I say they “play ball” what I mean is they take turns slamming rubber balls at each other as hard as possible in an effort to prove some sort of manly “bring it on big boy” something-or-other. Sometimes my head gets caught in the crossfire, and I have seen circling stars on more than one occasion. So last Friday, during one of their bouncy battles, the boys shattered my happiness. Okay, maybe “shattered” is too harsh a word, but with one fell swoop of the ball, they knocked over my Willow Tree “Happiness” figurine and broke off her hand. A hush fell over the guilty parties. Lucky for them it was a clean break, and Dr. SuperGlue was able to repair her. Unlucky for me, while I was employing Dr. SuperGlue and squeezing Happinessessess’ hand to her arm, I inadvertently glued the underside of my middle fingernail to my finger.

Does this kind of stuff happen to the rest of you . . . or is it just me???


MichaelPolutta said...

The Camelbak Eruption is explained simply by temperature/pressure of a gas. The air in the bottle had condensed due to the cold. As the temperature reached "room temperature" (remember, whatever temperature your room is, it is always "room temperature"!) the gas had tried to expand - the bottle not flexing very much, this resulted in an increase in pressure, greater than 1 atmosphere. When you opened the valve, the pressure equalized. With the outlet being the straw that draws from the bottom, you had a nice fountain.

Wow, I really need something "productive" to do, eh?

janjanmom said...

It's just you, Baby!!

E.T.'s Mom said...

It doesn't happen near so eloquently to the rest of us.

Sara said...

I am still upset that they broke your happiness. They need to be more careful. One of these days I'm afraid one of them is going to break and I am pretty sure it won't be Kevin's teenage body.