Where Are The Settings For The Body Clock?

This morning (Sunday) we had the switching of time here, as we lost an hour as we sprang forward into summer, for British Summer Time.

Get the barbeque out.

But don’t forget the patio heater too.

I’ve never really understood, like most of the northern hemisphere, why there is a need to change the clocks, as to best use the daylight hours that we get.

I mean, if the industry you’re in can make better use of starting the day earlier, then start the day earlier, and vica-versa.

No need for us all, and all our clock bearing devices, to be updated.

My weekend was further complicated by the fact that technology appears to be in a bit of a limbo, and that I needed to rely on it to make our Sunday our success.

See my son had been invited to two parties, and then there was an event at his proposed school in the afternoon.

It was all set up quite nicely, an early start, but all these activities were lined up nicely for an action packed day.

The first party was due to start at 10:00, at a place about 20 minutes by car away. Working backwards this meant we had to be up two hours before to give me enough time to get us both washed, dressed and fed breakfast.

08:00 on a Sunday would be a lie in, no need for an alarm clock.

But as we were losing an hour, 8 actually became 7 and we did indeed need an alarm call, just in case we slept passed that hour.

My alarm setting dilemma was if my phone would auto-update the time, thus I could set that alarm for 8 to get 7, if you get my drift.

I wasn’t sure, so I also set my archaic radio alarm for 07:00 as I knew that wouldn’t auto-update.

As it happens, both alarms went off at the appropriate times, and we were both up anyway.

I was also pleased we had such a busy day, as I hoped it would tire my boy out more than usual, so I could get him into bed an hour before he went yesterday, regardless of what his R2-D2 clock said.

I’ve been met half-way, and will be interested to see what time ‘we’ are up tomorrow.

Whatever time it is I hope it isn’t cold, that reminds me, I must go change the times on our under-floor heating and conventional heating systems.

Toodle pip.

A Hot Dad Alone

Here is a list of things a Hot Dad does when his family is out of town and he’s left home alone for an extended period of time:

1. Go directly from the airport to the supermarket.
2. Buy a big steak and a case of Guinness.
3. Go home and fire up the TV. Do not turn it off.
4. Crank the volume on the sound system.
5. Start drinking.
6. Use the bathroom with the door open.
7. Smoke a cigar on the back porch (shower afterward optional).
8. Play music really loud through the house, especially any songs with “explicit” lyrics that normally can’t be played in front of the young ‘uns.
9. Grill every meal.
10. Memorize number for food places that deliver.
11. Sleep in late.
12. Strut around nude.
13. Don’t shave (weekend only).
14. Movie marathon / Sports all of the time (depending on your preference).
15. Showers optional (weekend only).
16. Watch porn wherever you damn well please.
17. Do laundry only when necessary.
18. Food shop only when necessary.
19. Leave dishes in the sink (because you can).
20. Hook video game system up to the good TV. Play whenever the urge strikes.
21. Cold Chinese food for breakfast.
22. Cold pizza for breakfast.
23. Don’t make the bed.
24. Poker night.
25. Miss his wife and kids.

How about you? What do you do when given the gift of solitude?

-DGB

Nasty, Disgusting Bastard

… Or Is It Just A Man’s Way Of Trying To Do The Right Thing?

Some of you may have heard this before...but since it is still going on, I thought I'd reitterate.

So let me set this up for you.A few months ago my “woman” ManicMariah got up in the morning and was acting all pissy. I asked what was wrong. She looked at me and gruffly said, ”nothing.” I backed off a bit to see if she just needed some space.

About an hour later, after no change, I, tenderly, approached her again to ask what was wrong. Her head whipped around (kind of Exorcist-esc) and with glaring eyes she informed me that she was a shitty mother and a lazy piece of shit. I jumped back, not knowing what to expect, and asked why she felt like that. She told me that she hates waking up late and not being able to see the kids off to school. It makes her feel like a pile of steamy dog crap.From that point on I have been making a point to set our alarm so that we have time to get up and spend some time with the kids before they leave.OK…I am almost there.

Anyway, Mariah is ….how should I put it?....NOT A MORNING PERSON!Now, as the alarm is on my side, it is my job to turn it off and make sure that she gets up. This is one tough job. After weeks of trial and error, came the morning that I turned over onto my side, scooched myself into her until she reached around me so that we are in a loving spooning position. Then I proceed to work some of my “inner magic” and push out a nice, loud, morning toot…which actually shook the bed. With my eyes tightly closed, I felt the stabbing sensation of an elbow connecting with my ribs followed by what sounded like snapping bone, while instantaneously leaping from the bed repeating, “You NASTY, DISGUSTING BASTARD. You are so fucking nasty and gross.” I stayed in bed…trying to take back my gases by saying that I was kidding and was just trying to get her out of bed like she wanted.

After coming out of the bathroom, she threw me a death glare calling me nasty again and then abruptly left the room.

Now… pondering my decision and weighing the pain and insults, I have decided that I will go back to the drawing board.

Any thoughts

Bedtime Ogre

Well, well, well......

This marks my First post over here at Hot Dads. Which is funny because I'm not Hot. I'm barely palatable. At best.

And. Apparently, I'm also a Bedtime Ogre.

Anyone with small children has a Bedtime routine. There may be songs or a snack before bed. There may be stories of Marshmallow Rainbows or some sort of foolhardy Duck that has become Stuck. In the Muck. We all have them and frankly, they are a Huge pain in the ass.

Sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes I feel like instituting a Lord of the Flies policy and locking my Bedroom door only to walk out 6-8 hours later to find that the dog has been shaved and all my booze is gone. That's irresponsible. Funny. But irresponsible.

So we go through the motions.

As stated before, I am a Bedtime Ogre. A book or two, a song, a kiss on the cheek, and it's time for you to go "ni-ni" so Daddy can clear his head. It's simple really. Just close your eyes and, go. to. sleep.

Cutie McWifey is a sucker. I don't mean that in a Good way either. Well, I do. But not at this particular time. She's a Sucker because she can turn a Goodnight kiss into 30 minutes worth of steppin' and Bedtime fetchin'. Usually, she opens the smallish one's bedroom door with her eyes squinting against the light of the Hallway like she was just seconds from the Deep sleep herself.

Now. To her credit, I hardly ever hear the Tater make a peep after she exits the Room.

She's an awesome Matriarch.

I'm a Bedtime Ogre.

Sometimes, when I have Bedtime Duty, I have to go back in and soothe the Water, but mostly, after the smallish one bitches and moans for 5-10 minutes, well, there is no escaping the Sandman.

I used to tell my oldest daughter, when she was much younger and would carry on about taking a Nap, "Listen. Mom's not here. You can sleep. You can stay awake. I'm giving you Tabula Rasa, kid. You get to create you own Future. But you create it in Here. *motions around the Goat's bedroom* For the next 2 hours. Again. Just so we're clear. Sleep or don't. It's your World. But your World is in here. *motions again around the Goats room* Hugs and Keeses."

And........exit Stage Left.

See? I'm a Bedtime Ogre. And I'm not Hot.

You may start with the throwing of Rotten Vegetables at any time.

-word.

Posted by CIII at the Goat and Tater