My vote is yes. I love that saying. It makes me chuckle; it makes no sense; and I have no idea where it comes from. As best I can gather from the Internet*, it was coined by an American writer named F. Van Wyck Mason in his 1932 novel Spider House. Whatever the case might be, it is extremely apt for the D.C. region right now. It is indeed colder than a witch's tit outside.
Few things are more unsettling than waking up in the morning, checking the weather and seeing a bunch of numbers in the single digits. But that's how it's gone the past few days, and there is no break in sight. On Tuesday, the forecast calls for a high of 19 and a low of 7. Brutal. The thing is, it's not so much the physical discomfort of the cold that bothers me -- thankfully, we mastered indoor heating, what, 50, 60 years? -- it's the chain reaction the cold has on every other facet of your life.
For example, it snowed on Tuesday, enough for most people to get a snow day. That would be awesome, except I can work from home, so it wasn't a day off for me. Then daycare was closed so S and Lil' S were both here, which normally wouldn't be an issue -- I would just work downstairs -- but since our downstairs is out of commission from the burst pipe (another side effect of the cold), I have to work upstairs and do my best to ignore the beeping and blaring coming out of all of Lil' S's toys in the next room. By the way, does every toy have to make some sort of obnoxious now? Actually, don't answer that. I don't want to get started down that road.
Also, trying to occupy Lil' S all day without letting him play outside is a bear. I had him all day last Saturday, and we both got some serious cabin fever. I took him to the National Building Museum, which is usually a good place to go, but the play area was "sold out" all day. It seems absurd that a giant room full of toys can be sold out all day, but there you go. I was extra annoyed too, because we just bought a year's membership, so I felt like we should get some sort of special play privileges, like it's an American Express black card or something. Kick out some non-members and give us their slots. Oh, and here's another unsettling thing: returning to your car five minutes after you paid for an hour and a half of parking.
Another bad thing about the cold: it makes you fat. Think about it. Not only are you way less active when it's cold, but you have less incentive to stay in shape. Dropping pounds will only make you colder (like a whale losing its blubber), and there's no shame in having a doughy frame, if it's hidden underneath layers of thick clothing. It's the perfect fat storm.
Anyway ...
In other news, Lil' S has started employing tantrums as a way to try to get what he wants. He hasn't quite worked it all out yet, though, because he doesn't realize that a tantrum is only effective if the person you're throwing it for can actually give you what you want. Like if he wants to watch YouTube videos while he eats, there is some logic to throwing a tantrum, because we might cave and put some on. However if he tries unsuccessfully to hold his ball and work his little toddler-cycle at the same time, throwing a tantrum isn't going to do him much good because there's nothing we can do to significantly advance his motor skills in a span of five minutes. Well, I'm sure he'll learn.
What Lil' S could really use is a lil' sibling to whip him into shape. S and I got a little taste of what that would be like tonight, as we had to babysit our friends' two girls (five and two) for a few hours. It went fine, but it wore me out. My right knee in particular. The five-year old is a little bruiser, and she kept wanting me to play the "tackling game" -- which I'm pretty sure she made up on the spot -- where I run and then she jumps off the ottoman onto my back, and I fall down. It was actually pretty fun, but by about the fifth iteration I started feeling a kink in my knee, and now it's starting to stiffen up. Getting injured roughhousing with a child is a great sign you're not old yet, but you're getting there. An old person would've even be doing it, and a young person wouldn't be getting hurt. Well, now I can see why former football players like Earl Campbell are cripples at age fifty.
Oh, speaking of football ... Go 'Hawks! That's the only thing I will mention about the 2014 Super Bowl on this blog.
Until next time ...
*As you might notice this link is a response to a The Straight Dope article. The response links to the original article, but that link is broken, and I'm unable to find the article online anywhere. I did however learn that Carlos Castaneda was likely a liar.
Few things are more unsettling than waking up in the morning, checking the weather and seeing a bunch of numbers in the single digits. But that's how it's gone the past few days, and there is no break in sight. On Tuesday, the forecast calls for a high of 19 and a low of 7. Brutal. The thing is, it's not so much the physical discomfort of the cold that bothers me -- thankfully, we mastered indoor heating, what, 50, 60 years? -- it's the chain reaction the cold has on every other facet of your life.
For example, it snowed on Tuesday, enough for most people to get a snow day. That would be awesome, except I can work from home, so it wasn't a day off for me. Then daycare was closed so S and Lil' S were both here, which normally wouldn't be an issue -- I would just work downstairs -- but since our downstairs is out of commission from the burst pipe (another side effect of the cold), I have to work upstairs and do my best to ignore the beeping and blaring coming out of all of Lil' S's toys in the next room. By the way, does every toy have to make some sort of obnoxious now? Actually, don't answer that. I don't want to get started down that road.
Also, trying to occupy Lil' S all day without letting him play outside is a bear. I had him all day last Saturday, and we both got some serious cabin fever. I took him to the National Building Museum, which is usually a good place to go, but the play area was "sold out" all day. It seems absurd that a giant room full of toys can be sold out all day, but there you go. I was extra annoyed too, because we just bought a year's membership, so I felt like we should get some sort of special play privileges, like it's an American Express black card or something. Kick out some non-members and give us their slots. Oh, and here's another unsettling thing: returning to your car five minutes after you paid for an hour and a half of parking.
[Stock Internet photo of a snowy DC. I meant to take a picture of my street during this latest snow, but forgot.]
Another bad thing about the cold: it makes you fat. Think about it. Not only are you way less active when it's cold, but you have less incentive to stay in shape. Dropping pounds will only make you colder (like a whale losing its blubber), and there's no shame in having a doughy frame, if it's hidden underneath layers of thick clothing. It's the perfect fat storm.
Anyway ...
In other news, Lil' S has started employing tantrums as a way to try to get what he wants. He hasn't quite worked it all out yet, though, because he doesn't realize that a tantrum is only effective if the person you're throwing it for can actually give you what you want. Like if he wants to watch YouTube videos while he eats, there is some logic to throwing a tantrum, because we might cave and put some on. However if he tries unsuccessfully to hold his ball and work his little toddler-cycle at the same time, throwing a tantrum isn't going to do him much good because there's nothing we can do to significantly advance his motor skills in a span of five minutes. Well, I'm sure he'll learn.
[The guy who made the run in this video is now in a wheelchair. He's not yet 60.]
What Lil' S could really use is a lil' sibling to whip him into shape. S and I got a little taste of what that would be like tonight, as we had to babysit our friends' two girls (five and two) for a few hours. It went fine, but it wore me out. My right knee in particular. The five-year old is a little bruiser, and she kept wanting me to play the "tackling game" -- which I'm pretty sure she made up on the spot -- where I run and then she jumps off the ottoman onto my back, and I fall down. It was actually pretty fun, but by about the fifth iteration I started feeling a kink in my knee, and now it's starting to stiffen up. Getting injured roughhousing with a child is a great sign you're not old yet, but you're getting there. An old person would've even be doing it, and a young person wouldn't be getting hurt. Well, now I can see why former football players like Earl Campbell are cripples at age fifty.
Oh, speaking of football ... Go 'Hawks! That's the only thing I will mention about the 2014 Super Bowl on this blog.
Until next time ...
*As you might notice this link is a response to a The Straight Dope article. The response links to the original article, but that link is broken, and I'm unable to find the article online anywhere. I did however learn that Carlos Castaneda was likely a liar.
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