Beware The Pee Nazi

Of course, to expect a normal Christmas at our house is like expecting Virginia Tech to not have a felon on the football team. Or expecting Southern Mississippi to be able to defeat The University of Our Lady of the Woods - El Paso during regular season play.

Anyway, you might be wondering what all this has to do with the Pee Nazi. Well, as it turns out the Tech Grad was unable to complete a successful download of the yard monkey because the monkey had an attitude. So the Yard Monkey Doctor determined that if the kid wasn't going to cooperate that he would go in and take the child by force. I think they call it a "C-Section." The kid turned out to weigh only seven pounds, which is bad because if you are going to have an attitude you should have some weight to back it up. Either that or a gun. But lacking both leaves you vunerable to doctors who just don't have time for all that crap.

So now it's Christmas Eve, a week after the Doctor/Monkey confrontation and the Tech Grad starts to turn inside out. I'm not kidding. One minute we're talking and the next minute my wife says, "Hey, you're turning inside out." Turning inside out can't be a good thing. Apparently the Tech Grad blew out some staples or stitches or something and started to open up across the mid-section. She didn't feel anything because she was stoned on pain killers. Which is why my wife, who tends to notice things like gushing rivers of blood, was the first to point out the problem.

According to the internet (you should believe everything you read on the internet) once a C-Section incision starts to open up it will not stop, allowing everything that is inside to move to the outside until the outside is on the inside and vice-versa. And Bingo Presto - you're inside out! Now, for some families having someone turn inside out may be a normal occurrence, but not even our disfunctional family has seen anything like this. So Just Dean calls the Yard Monkey On Call Service and explains that his wife is turning inside out and wants to know just exactly what, if anything, should be done. Their advice was to "bring her in before she turns completely inside out and looks like Jaba The Hut from "Star Wars."

Now it's off to the hospital. The people at the emergency room were very nice and were excited that a cast member from Star Wars was actually there in person. After signing some autographs the Tech Grad was hauled off to surgery to stop the splitting process and, more importantly, score some top shelf pain killers.

The following day the doctor told her she could go home - after she peed. To oversee the Pee Process they assigned the hospital Pee Nazi. The Tech Grad knew she was in trouble when the Pee Nazi demanded that she drink at least 2 gallons of Coke in ten minutes. (By now it was Christmas Day and even Pee Nazi's want to be home on Christmas). The Tech Grad cringed when the Pee Nazi wrote "Urine trouble young lady" on the chart. Hours passed and no pee. Gas passed, and no pee. Finally, the Pee Nazi determined that the reason the Tech Grad couldn't pee was because she was too close to the bathroom. "Let's walk to the other end of the hall, the furthest point from the toilet," said the PN. "If you are too far away to get back in time, you'll have to pee. It works everytime." A few minutes later the Tech Grad was sent home, the PN was able to clock out, and the janitor had a mess at the other end of the hall.

So baby and mommy and Just Dean are all at home now. Their house is the one on the street with all of the cars out front. Word that you have lots of quality pain killers travels fast in the Roanoke Valley.

"I Put Your Nuts In The Bowl"

This is another quote from my wife. I'm not sure if she was talkiing about the walnuts that we just bought from the store or if she was just reminding me who's in charge. Needless to say, I make it a habit to never question her authority.

Plot To Raise Christmas Cash Is A Bomb

So a 14 year old kid takes a pipe bomb to school so he can sell it for $35.00 and use the money for Christmas presents. Right.

And the principal of the school is not upset because, after all, he is a good boy and he just -oops- did something "stupid." Right.

And nothing should happen to this really good kid, even though the police found two unfinished pipe bombs at the kids house. Right.

Translation: A 14 year old boy brings a bomb to a private school to sell and he shouldn't be punished because his parents have scads of cash and new buildings aren't free you know.

But do not despair, this kid is going down. While school administrators slam kids who do much less, they always seem to want to give the real dangrous kids a big sloppy hug. Fortunately, the law is on this one and the parents of the other kids will have a hard time supporting the school's "kiss a crook" program.

Meanwhile his family will have to do without decent Christmas presents from this kid, unless of course, he does well in Juvey Jail crafts class.

How To Be A Bad Parent

This news story has gained much attention on a slow news day. The parents of two lazy kids have decided to go on strike because the kids aged 12 and 17 refuse to do chores or help around the house. The parents have set up a tent in the driveway and refuse to cook, clean, or drive the kids anywhere.

This whole situation, while entertaining, forces me to ask, "How did it get this far?" My question was quickly answered when I read that apon the kids' arrival home the oldest was angry at his mom. Then I read this quote, "The mother followed the boy inside the house trying to console him." There it is. The answer to my question. Mom took a stand, and within 2 minutes completely caved in. The parents are weak and the kids are in control. Perhaps these parents should find a way to not fear their kids. Because if you want a best buddy, go get a best buddy. But your teenage kids will not fill that role. Nor should you expect them to. Besides, your best buddy would help you around the house.

So now we have two brat kids who bully mom by with holding love and a mom and dad who are too weak to do anything about it. Weak parents are more common than you think. I see evidence of it every day in the classroom. But on a slow news day - weak parents and their boorish kids are news. Maybe someone should call Jerry Springer.

Baby Boy Or Cheese Cake? You Decide

As yet another week goes by waiting for the Tech Grad to spew forth her offspring, rumors are beginning to circulate that she is not pregnant at all. Her older brother, The Terminator, has begun to muse that perhaps the Tech Grad's alledged pregnancy is not a pregnancy at all but a cover story for a nine month cheese cake orgy. "I'm not sure if she is having contractions or intestinal cramps," says The Terminator. "I wonder if what she really needs is some laxatives, a good book and two hours on the potty."

Even her late grandmother has spoken from the beyond. "My gawd, girl. Look at yo' hay-ya. You look mis-erble. Maybe you need some Senecots." (The previous quote is a phonetically correct Lynchburg, Va. accent).

Her hubby, Just Dean, has been finding suspicious crumbs around the house. "There's just crumbs everywhere. She blames the animals." No one knows whether or not the rumor is true. "Don't ask me," says The Terminator. "I just start the rumors. It's an Army thing."

Developing . . .