5:15

I've got nothing to blog about. I've done nothing out of the ordinary, had no interesting bowel movements, have no unusual hair growing out of unusual places. We've had no unusual weather; there's nothing worth mentioning in local sports. Anyway, here's a glimpse into my life the last couple of weeks.

There's a wall clock hanging in our downstairs bathroom. For probably two years, the battery has been dead, and it's stuck on 5:15. But that doesn't stop me from looking up there to check the time. I probably check the time on that clock four times a week.

Sometimes, my brain shouts "5:15!" as my head is still swiveling toward the clock. Sometimes -- especially if I'm groggy -- I still have to look at the clock and wonder, "What time is it? Shit, I would swear that it was just 7:30. I don't under... Ohhhhh, yeah."

Vanya talks in full sentences all of the time now, but he sometimes gets his word order wrong. Like last week, when he wanted help reaching something, and he called his Mama for help. I was in the kitchen (close to where he was), so I offered to get it. He pointed back to the stove and told me, "Not you Papa! Go back to supper cooking!" Must have been hungry.

The funnier directive was a day or two later in the bathroom with the 5:15. He pointed at the toilet and said, "Sit down Papa. Read paper!"

You know that bit on Dave Chapelle's show where he was a blind guy, but also a racist because being blind, he didn't know he was black?

I think Blossom might have something similar going on. I think she doesn't like dogs, and she's so stupid, she doesn't realize that she is a dog. Mrs. theskinnyonbenny took the dogs to the dog park, and she wouldn't get out of the car. She just sat and waited while Lily sniffed around the park.

And when we encounter dogs on our walk. Lily wants to sniff butts, but she finds a way to stay several dog lengths away from all of that butt-sniffing. Even with her neck on a leash and her butt four feet from her head. It's quite a talent, it is.