Atomictumor

I just had to do the “DON’T WASTE THAT FOOD, BOOOOOY” voice on Pigpen, who begged and begged and begged for Spaghetti O’s but then turned his nose up on them because he has to eat at the kitchen table.

Life is difficult, for the Pigpen.

—

I came back to the computer to finish writing this post, and he said “I don’t understand“, which has been my cue to go see what he doesn’t understand.

Getting Pigpen to communicate to me has been a concern. He’s always found it easier to talk to BJ, because he was ‘her’ kid. I mentioned on here before that we always had two divorce jokes:

1. That we’d have a battle to the death as opposed to divorce, because it’d be easier on the kids.
2. That it’d be easy to divide the kids, because Pigpen is very much a Mommy’s boy, and MastaG is very much a Daddy’s boy.

Like damn near all jokes, this has an element of truth. Luckily, BJ and I weren’t the type of people to have a divorce. It was nice, and I’m so glad to have had that in my life, but thats not the point.

The point is that Pigpen didn’t understand.

So I pulled down a chair and sat beside him, his transformer, his robot Average, and his untouched bowl of spaghetti’os and franks.

He said “Yel… Yowll.. Yelro… Y… Yelling. I don’t understand why you’re yelling at me” in a level voice, with just a hint of concern in his little eyebrows.

I said “Sweety, I don’t like it when you ask for food and don’t eat it. I don’t like food wasting, and I never have.”

He looked at me with those concerned eyebrows, and told me he didn’t want it.

Apparently, franks (which he loves in hot dog form), and spaghetti o’s (which he loves in, well, spaghetti’o form) are NOT TO BE COMBINED. Because he wasn’t touching it.

I told him that this is all he gets before supper, no snacks, no treats, no candy, no nothing. He agreed, got down, unpaused Harry Potter, and is now jabbering happily.
I’m leaving the spaghetti o’s on the table…

Good question.

This

is whats for breakfast.

(Good thing, 10 years ago when BJ and I were divvying up household jobs, I got cook… BJ chose general supervisor…)

So last night I was eating a bitchin hamburger at the Time-Out here in Oak Ridge.  I hadn’t been there previously, and only stopped there because GAC was looking for a chair base for her project (which I’m sure she’ll tell you about later, on account of it rocks), and Time Out was something different.  Anyway, point is, it freakin rocked, it wasn’t king hell expensive, and they’re getting French Broad beers out of Asheville on tap so I can finally quit bitching about the shitty beer selection on draft in Oak Ridge.

Wooooooot.

So anyway, there I was, eating my burger and onion rings, drinking my Dr. P, and pondering my latest plan: an Oak Ridge Wiki.

Now, this thing is my answer to the talk of late about how Oak Ridge has its nose up with regards to Anderson County, and maybe its true, maybe it isn’t.  Who cares.  Seems to me, tho, that one of the problems I had with this town until recently is that you have to really dig at the bastard to get the good stuff.  Why not make the good stuff public?

Blogs are great for disseminating opinions, but anybody from out of town who reads me and Netmom might get a wildly jilted view of what Oak Ridge is and what it isn’t.  Hell, I disagree with Netmom intently on a lot of aspects of this town.  Point is, I’m still living here, and so is she, and its because this is a great little place, with an interesting history, and a very cool present.  Sometimes.

Anyway, a wiki would be a place where everybody could come in and write about the shops in town, write about the politicians, the newspapers, the intersections.  What to stay away from, what to go to, in a completely open and free enviroment, edited by peers.

I like that idea.  I like it a bunch, and I want to get other people hyped up about it.  Problem is, I’m having a HELL of a time getting everything set up.  See for yourself, its at http://www.atomictumor.com/oakridgewiki for now, but it ain’t pretty…

I discovered that I’m still a comic book geek.

I started really liking “The Office” (the American version, that is.  The british one still isn’t funny).

I concluded that climbing up into the attic to run the home theater wire up there isn’t ever going to happen.

I got cut on the hand by one of the demon cats.

I read books to Pigpen, and talked dorky with MastaG.

I bought a pair of corduroys, and am wearing them now.

I slept in (until 8).

I watched the leaves not change color.

I lamented the passing of summer (again), and regretted the coming of winter (cuz its all my fault.  Or Demeters.  Whoever).

I cleaned up the house, and kept it clean for 3 days.

I watched GAC make the new banner, and then forgot to put it up.

I realized that I love (like?) my family more as I get older, and that the farm isn’t a bad place to spend a weekend.

I argued the points of good beer with Philistines like Nodbob and Dustifer, who, much like Daco, prefer Budwater.  What worked against me was that the good beer was a 30 minute drive, but the bleah beer was 15 minutes.  Guess which one won?

I remembered why I liked my job, and got a handle on why I’ve had a hard time living with myself lately (its because I’m a dick, evidently, but its OK.)

I fell in love with my wife again for the 3652nd day, and married her for the 2nd time.

I thought to myself how nice it is to have friends (both real and imagined).

I got drunk.

I got hung over.

I swore off heavy drinking.

I returned home to two of my favorite records scratched up by the cats, and then forgot my badge to get into work this morning necessitating a sleepy trip back home.

I still have a smile on my face, and life is so good.  Vacations are great!

This is the first installment (hopefully) of a series. This is by no means the first unintended scientific experiment we have undertaken, merely the first one documented.

While putting a box of Capri Suns in the refrigerator, I came across a faux-tupperware’d box of left-overs. Unable to recall the last time we had a meal that warranted saving for future supping, I took it out to have a look-see.

Upon initial examination, I noted that the box appeared to contain rice and was sealed. Its contents rattled when shaken.

Previous experience has taught me not to inhale when opening mysterious containers, so I’m afraid I am unable to share with you any olfactory data.

The specimen was found to indeed contain rice (reverted back to its uncooked texture, devoid of moisture), but there was also an unknown quantity present.

The unknown quantity appeared to be small 1″ cubes of an uniform grey color, with small black spots on its exterior. There appeared to be a thin coating of milky-white slime on the cubes.

I did not attempt to identify the unknown quantity via taste test. I am not paid nearly enough.

Searching through my mental index of side dishes, I have come to the conclusion that the unknown quantity must be hashed potatoes.