A Punch in the Face

I keep forgetting that should I ever lack a topic to write about all I need do is try to log in. I can't even be bothered describing the incident, suffice to say it ended with me waving my impotent fist at the uncaring sky.

The other source of amazement is my kid's conversation.
My daughter has some vicious flu thing and has been home the last few days. It is half past five and I am under instruction not to let the kids go to sleep. Upon writing this I have also recalled that my wife has also told me to ring her step-mother to ask to borrow the car on Thursday. Her entry to the room is imminent and I am thinking of setting one of the kids afire to create a diversion.

She enters the room coughing and I am led to actually provoked her by now telling her I have not made the call. She is blowing her nose. There is silence. I punched her in the face the other day. She did actually deserve it. It wasn't like those adverts where those simpering He-Men whisper and whimper. "Yeah, well I said I wanted dinner and so I hit her. She said she probably deserved it" Followed by the stamping in big red letters across the screen NO SHE DIDN'T. Of course there is no irony or subtlety in the commercial because it's aimed at people without the use of an opposable thumb. And by the way if you are screaming alll teeth and spit at what I'm writing, pulling frantically at your prehensile tale, relax.... I'm not advocating violence in any form. Let me finish my story. Later.

My daughter's conversation - she's lying on the couch eyes closed. My five year old is totally in her personal space declaring:
"Hey, she's asleep!"
Daughter: (eyes closed) "No, I'm just waiting... I'm resting my eyes."
Son (in astonishment and fear) Nah.... your eyes are closed so you're asleep."
"No I've just got my eyes closed."
"You're asleep, your eyes are closed.'
Daughter: "Have you been to Karatha before."
Me: "No, no I haven't."
Daughter: "Not you Dad... him."
Stupid me. Karatha, over 1600kms away, and she's asking the five year old has he been there. He doesn't answer, because she's asleep.
I don't answer because I'm offended. Should have asked me. A 5 year old can't go to Karatha.

Saturday morning I'm lying in bed. My wife tells me to get up. I make a wise crack. She makes a wise crack. I throw a pillow. She yells out "RRRRRIIIGHT!" Running at me. Running at me in an Amazonian warrior like fashion at my twig like body. I spin like a naked ninja ( I have known these things to end poorly even fully dressed - each knee contains a testicle magnet: rarely fails to find them. You could drop a man or woman thousands of metres onto an individual lying on the ground. Even if they are miles out of alignment the knee will still manage to connect. Got to tell you my "My friend Will, story") so i spin she lands and again like a Ninja I reach around to pin her with my left arm. Cept for some reason as I swing my arm around at full speed my knuckles connect with teeth. (for in case you conceive that I have have just launched around and punched her right in the mouth I have not... now keep pulling your stupid monkey tail) Not great. Then as I show concern (I've seen this done in movies) I reach to console her but I'm met with "Don't touch me."
Man... just when we started to connect I connect.

Well... I will have to save my story about my Year Eights being sentenced to dath for not having a clue who Bono is. Not because of who he is so much, as they let me waffle about his contribution to humanity for about five minutes before they asked the question, "Who's Bono". Ok.... Bono is the lead singer of U2 and he helps poor people. "Who's U2". "You're surely taking the mickey," I mutter more to myself. They, sadly, were not. They must be taken out of the gene pool.