Monday, February 1, 2010

Livin' with McLovin

A typical Sunday with McLovin:
  • Gets out of bed with all the fanfare and volume of the freaking Boston Pops -- provided that they make music with groans, creaks, burps, shuffles and cracking knuckles. Charming. And, shut up.
  • Ventures out to pick up the newspaper. Gets locked out. Kate and children STILL sleeping. Neighbors spy him peering in windows into his own home. Fantastic. They think I married my own stalker.
  • Our dog, who now eerily resembles the slinky-dog from Toy Story, has to be hauled up and down the stairs because he's 927 years and "walks" like a stroke victim. McLovin finds himself staring at dog through locked glass door. Kate wishes she has a photo.
  • Lefty lets him in. Says: "Were you bad? Did Mommy lock you out?"
  • First thing Kate hears at breakfast: "You know, canine opposible thumbs would have been a useful evolutionary metamorphisis." Kate threatens to go back to bed unless he shuts up.

  • Goes downstairs to shower and get dressed just as the chilren get up for breakfast. After 45 minutes, Kate finds him unshowered and still in pajamas "working on the computer" i.e. goofing off on Facebook.

  • Agrees to change clothes at the last minute to amuse Happy, who wanted to wear a suit to church and wanted Daddy to as well. He looked like an idiot, but Happy was, well, happy. Didn't stop people from staring at church.

  • The prototypical "Church Lady" scolds our children for running in the hallway AFTER church is over. In his most Christian, we're-still-in-the-building-let's-be-kind-and-patient-and-all-that, he tells her to go suck an egg. Literally. Go. Suck. An. Egg. His justification? She has hair that reminds him of his mother-in-law and she's in mom pants. I deem that to be a reasonable excuse.

  • Calls Lydia "Mrs. Coupon" in a crowd of people. She responds by calling him "McLovin" -- he smiles, says "yes ma'am. I am McLovin" then swigs some coffee. To which Happy and Lefty start chanting "McLovin! McLovin!" in the narthex. I'm going to have to changes churches.

  • Declines to play catcher position during indoor game of baseball, because "I had Mexican food for dinner. Things could get dangerous." Then engages boys in contest of who can clear the room first. To be specific, the game is called "Is There a Bear in Here?" I still can't go into the playroom.

  • Admits, via Facebook, that he put a pair of my Jimmy Choos in the refrigerator with last night's leftovers. My. Shoes. Spent. The. Night. In. The. Refrigerator. Kate is not amused. McLovin is still laughing. McLovin is sleeping on the couch.

Time for bed. Cue the Boston Pops.

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    1. I think McLovin and my husband (who I call Clark b/c of his rad resemblance to Superman's nerdy but hot alter-ego) were separated at birth. Maybe they each got 1/2 a lower GI and that's why they are so gassy?

    2. Gives a different meaning to "cold feet"!

    3. I'm married to the world's sweetest man. I'm so lucky to have found him, he should have been a lottery ticket. He's gentle and funny, and he does the cooking. (Good, better, and best.) He is a prince among jackholes. He is an intellectual, a philosopher. I love a great existential conversation. Feed me, give me a nice glass of mommy juice, and ask me "what's it all about," and I'll talk your head voluntarily rolls off your neck. HOWEVER, my heart-throb lives, I tell you he lives to talk philosophy to me over the first cup of coffee when I'm still trying to start breathing. Seriously? Man's struggle for inner peace at 7:15a.m.? Inner peace was mine until it was suggested that I start thinking before my coffee cup needle hits "E." Deep questions in the before coffee-clarity aren't the best idea. Right now, when I'm having my Monthly Clearance Sale (because everything must go [Aunt Flo/Shark Week]), there are few to no acceptable pre-coffee-clarity questions. Early morning philosophy could only be trumped by early morning speculative evolution. Canine opposable thumbs? Whuck? Insert Maude face here.




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