All that comes with it

Amy and Evan spent the night at Grandma and Grandad’s last night, so Kerry and I took the opportunity to go out for a meal (Maxi’s) and catch a late showing at the cinema (Blades of Glory).

The meal was pretty good, but then again it was an all you can eat buffet. You could serve me nothing but cucumber at an all you can eat buffet and I’d be happy. The film was fairly bland, but it filled an entertainment gap and it felt like we were somehow recapturing our youth to be out so late. Yes. We are pathetic.

During the trailers we saw an advert for Die Hard 4.0 which I didn’t even know had been made. This was very exciting for me. One of my treasured childhood memories is watching the TV edited version of Die Hard I had recorded on my brand new second hand betamax video recorder. Even the rather shoddy dubbing to cover the expletives didn’t spoil it for me (”Yippee-ki-yay, motherfunster”).

One of the disadvantages of going to the pictures late in the evening is that you run the risk of falling asleep in the middle of the film. I attempted to combat this by going against every principle in my body and endured the horrendously inflated cinema prices to buy coke from the popcorn stand. Unfortunately all they had left was coffee flavored Pepsi Max; which sounded like a crime against nature to me, but was actually quite nice.

When Kerry and I were in New York in 2002 we went to see Blade II in a cinema just off Time Square. Throughout the entire film the audience was whooping, whistling and cheering whenever there was a fight scene or bit of action (which in Blade II was virtually all the time) For people used to the reserved reactions of an English cinema audience this was quite a shock, the first time it happened we assumed Wesley Snipes had just walked into the theatre or something. I must admit though it did create an atmosphere that increased our enjoyment of the film significantly. I doubt it would add much to The Bridges of Madison County however.

Over the last few years I have put on quite a bit of weight. This has been due to a combination of things: i.e. the difficulty finding time to prepare proper meals now we’ve got the kids and the lack of physical activity in my job. But mainly my weight gain has been due to my two favorite deadly sins - gluttony and sloth. I only have myself to blame.

As a result of my transformation into a fat bloater, only approximately 20% of my wardrobe actually fits me. Normally that isn’t too much of a problem as I just circulate the old favorites (plus I wear my underpants for several days in a row). However, when I am called on to wear particularly specific clothing (such as lederhosen or a kilt) I tend to come unstuck.

I am going to a funeral today. One of my colleague’s husband has passed away and, while I didn’t know him, I am going along to show my support for her. But I can’t find my white shirt. I know I have one, I wore it to a funeral last month. It’s a posh one that needs cufflinks and I’m never sure if I’ve done them properly.

We’re in the middle of a laundry meltdown at the moment at the Hughes household. We have piles of washing stacked up around our bedroom to the point that you almost can’t see out of the windows. We’ll get back on top of things eventually, but for the time being every time you want to get dressed you have to rummage through the heap like a contestant on the crystal maze.

So my white shirt is lost somewhere in the pile. I am loathe to disturb it to much in case the whole thing topples down on me. Left pinned under such an avalanche of dirty washing I would sustain myself only by sucking on damp socks and food stains on shirts, until eventually after five days I would be reported missing and dragged out by a mountain rescue St Bernard.

No, it’s not worth the risk. I think I’ll wear my grey shirt instead.

I went for my tooth taking out this morning. It was much less of an ordeal than I had anticipated, just a few tugs, an unpleasant cracking noise, and then it was over. Looking at it siting in the silver bowl I was struck by how big it seemed and felt a little pang of regret that I hadn’t opted for the root canal.

Still, it’s out now. The dentist even uttered an involuntary “yuck” as she was pointing out the cavity in it to me. I now have to spend the next couple of days trying to resist the urge to probe the gap it left. My immediate mission however is to get through the next few hours until the anesthetic wears off without accidentally eating my tongue.

When Evan was born Amy kept trying to pick him up and carry him around the room.

“No, don’t do that!” We’d tell her “He’s too little for you to pick him up”

These days Amy still has the same desire to carry him around, but we now say:

“No, don’t do that! He’s too big for you to pick up”.

There once was a window of opportunity - February 7th between 1:35 and 3:15 in the morning. During that time he was just the perfect size for lifting, but Amy blew it by being asleep.

Those are the breaks I guess.