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Wednesday, September 21, 2005

hot!



my goodness the excersauser struck a chord! thanks for y'all's input. i definitely look forward to the day she is less of a soft, floppy fish and can actually enjoy it as it's meant to be enjoyed -- for the moment, she just stares at and drools on it. of course, she may not live long enough to enjoy the excersauser as it is meant to be enjoyed. i fear she is an endangered species.

don't get me wrong, please. she is not an endangered species because i would willingly harm her. no. she is endangered because i unwillingly put her in harm's way. all the time. oh, the examples are myriad. last week i sat her up and she GRINNED like she wanted to show you this new sitting thing she created. she sat there like katharine hepburn: gorgeous and wobbly. then she flopped backwards and SMASHED her paper skull into the ground. granted there was a rug and a towel between her smushy head and the hardwood floor, but still: she screamed. she actually spoke, i swear to buddah, and said: JESUS CHRIST! MY FATHER IS TRYING TO KILL ME! ARREST THIS MAN AND PUT HIM IN A CELL WHERE HE WILL BE RAPED AND THEN SHIVVED.

anyway, i have not been arrested. yet. but i probably should be arrested (and NOT for that little extortion deal i scored in atlantic city last fall. that was totally mutually beneficial). no, i should be incarcirated incarserated locked up for putting my tiny baby in harm's way for no good reason ... repeatedly.

take this sunday for example. the nice guys went to brunch at a friend's house in redhook. it was my duty to bring all the fixin's for bloody marys (maries?). mrs nice guy was to bring fruit salad. this friend, we'll call her gertrude, had just moved into her lovely apartment near the water (and not the subway) the week prior. when we showed up, with vodka and tomato juice and baby and fruit salad, in no particular order, gertrude was just pulling bacon out of the oven.

yes, that's right, she made bacon in the oven.

i, personally, had never seen bacon made in an oven before. and, it would seem, the oven had never seen it before either, because the oven, which had survived 600 cruel brooklyn winters, decided at the moment of our entrance to CATCH ON FIRE AND BURN THE APARTMENT DOWN WITH EVERYTHING IN IT INCLUDING THE BABY AND MY WIFE AND THE VODKA, in no particular order.

people, do you understand? gertrude's house caught on fire! this was my sunday morning! here it is in slow motion: we show up. we hand her the baby. gertrude walks into her bedroom with my wife and my baby. my miscreant friends and i are left alone in the kitchen to mix cocktails. then. then! then, the oven begins to breathe hot heaving breaths of baby-murdering grease-fire into the house. smoke fills the kitchen. one friend suggests opening the oven and throwing water in it. another friend wants to keep it closed. i begin to feel the heat of the flames melting my eyes. black death-smoke billows forth. slowly, it dawns on me that the oven, which is on fire in a way that ovens are not usually on fire, lies directly between ME and MY WIFE and MY CHILD (and several of MY DVDS THAT GERTRUDE HAD BORROWED AND NEVER RETURNED). so, i do the natural thing: i start crying. while gertrude calls the fire dept., i selflessly put my body into harm's way. i run into the bedroom to assemble my wife, child and dvds, in no particular order, grab the vodka and usher everything out of the apartment. sure this all sounds very bruce willis of me, but since this is my blog i am conveniently leaving out the part where i soiled myself repeatedly.

we run outside. it is interesting to note how many of my degenerate friends evacuated the apartment with drinks in hand. the fire department comes and shuts down the entire block in 3 sweaty, manly seconds. firemen with big axes beat on the doors of gertrude's neighbors, eager to swing their heavy instruments. the captain runs upstairs, ascending four of them at a time, as gertrude's various female guests (and sundry passers by) oggle beefy firemen unfurling their massive hoses. and then ... the group sex! no. nothing happens. the oven fire had extinguished itself.

after new york's finest stopped laughing at us and left, we let the smoke clear out of gertrude's apartment and retreated, tails between legs, back inside. it was gomorrah: we spoke not of the conflagration. we ate the delicious oven-destroying bacon. we drank powerful cocktails and debated which fireman had the most impressive equipment. we hugged our babies just a little bit tighter. in no particular order.




UPDATE! the votes are in! attention brooklyn firemen: apparently there is one among you who goes by the name of "KEANE." you, sir, have been proclaimed "mostly likely to have started the fire yourself, you're so hot" by my brunching ladyfriends. maseltov.

also, sorry for the silence around these parts. i have had no access to interweb for three looong days. am back and ready to rumble now, though.

16 Comments:

Blogger Chickie said...

There is no shame in soiling yourself repeatedly. I do believe that this situation called for it.

Next time, invite Gertrude to your house. Let her bring ice cubes as her potluck contribution.

9/22/2005 2:09 AM  
Anonymous AdventureDad said...

Damn my Sundays are boring. Most imortant, the Vodka bottle didn't break during all this dramatic event?

AD

9/22/2005 3:52 AM  
Anonymous MIL nice guy said...

Inspite of the exersaucer, plastic toys, oven fires and mr. and mrs. nice guy, I'm so happy to hear baby nice guy is still grinning, sitting up and turning over. Wooden toys are are on their way to fill up more of your 850 square feet. You keep me LOL.

9/22/2005 4:39 AM  
Anonymous robin said...

adventuredad, after all we've seen, don't you think mr nice guy is clever enough to buy the vodka in the plastic bottle?

9/22/2005 8:32 AM  
Blogger Candace said...

Oh, thank GOD.

I was so worried about the vodka. And the DVDs.

I'm on the verge of tears, just thinking about the danger the DVDs faced.

9/22/2005 8:47 AM  
Blogger momma of 2 said...

Sorry I had to laugh...Here's a comforting thought - Baby Nice Guy is too little to remember that you grabed the DVD's, and then wife & baby...

uhm... Don't let Gertrude ever cook around baby nice guy again.. okay?

9/22/2005 9:02 AM  
Blogger TC said...

Too funny! At least your DVDs and Vodka weren't hurt. LOL.

9/22/2005 9:22 AM  
Blogger Moo Moo said...

i just soiled myself reading this. ;)

9/23/2005 12:08 AM  
Blogger justdawn said...

And whomever thinks that chivalry has died has not yet read your blog:)

9/23/2005 1:42 AM  
Blogger Kara said...

you could dress any vodka-dvd-baby-wife-in-no-particular-order rescue wounds with one of these:
http://mcphee.com/items/11476.html

9/23/2005 8:45 AM  
Blogger Greg said...

Gorgeous and wobbly. Perhaps the most evil and accurate description of Kate Hepburn ever.

9/23/2005 2:36 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

i lit my oven on fire once last year forgetting something that had been left in there long in the past.

i managed to save the day by remembering 3rd grade lessons in fire safety, ('member how you ger a little fire hat to wear?) telling us to throw baking soda on a grease fire. it worked, and we all survived. but we learned our own lessons:
*baking soda
*clean your oven more than once every 5 years
*time to buy renter's insurance

*CL

9/23/2005 3:18 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Note to Kara - you are so funny, how did you know where to find bacon badages?

9/23/2005 9:05 PM  
Anonymous Jennifer said...

Oh my, Gertrude must have been so embarassed. At least until she saw your pee puddle. :p

9/24/2005 11:26 AM  
Blogger Kara said...

skills, baby. skills

9/24/2005 12:32 PM  
Blogger cluelesscarolinagirl said...

you be very funny man

9/29/2005 9:45 PM  

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