I’m pretty sure I’ve pulled the proverbial ‘chirp’ on myself. Back to back articles on my eagerness in saying goodbye to 2015 and welcoming 2016 have jinxed me. I inadvertently put the kibosh on whatever karmic momentum I was going to try and ride through the new year. Truth be told, even though it’s only three weeks old, so far this year sucks just as much as last year did. All of my favorite musicians from when I grew up and members of all of my favorite bands from that time between the ages of 67-70 are dropping like flies. My lovely bride (who is secretly the funniest person I know) suggested that there may have been something ingested at Woodstock that had a 46-year gestation period. Mother Nature is still hitting the pipe, my children are still trying to drive me to a stroke, I’m still trotting along on the bad luck treadmill, and I’m still living up to my childhood nickname of God’s Little Practical Joke.

It’s been awhile since I regaled you with any tales of my domestic bedlam.This is by no means because I have achieved some Zen-like state of normalcy in my home. And my kids did not suddenly wake up one morning draped in a veil of societal conformity (nor would I ever want them to). I am still trudging daily through the maelstrom that is my own existence, and my children are collectively still as colorful as a jumbo sized box of Crayons left in a crockpot overnight on the low setting. It’s actually because that which would seem completely ridiculous or even incredulous in most households has become so routine and commonplace in my home that I’m not even sure what is print-worthy any more. But did you ever have a day that was so monumentally shitty that you just had to share it? I had one this past Tuesday. And now, for your entertainment and at my own expense, I’d love to walk you through it.

Between the weather and the idiots calling in bomb threats, drop offs and pickups at my children’s schools have been sporadic at best these past few weeks. So there hasn’t been much routine in our schedule. There’s also the fact that my kids have been taking turns being sick. Especially the baby. At 4-months-old, the poor little guy has been battling a host of ailments that started with a cold that has him coughing around the clock, snotting like a coke addicted dragon with hay fever, and sounding like an infant version of Kathleen Turner. Being the overachiever that he is, he’s also cutting teeth, so he’s in constant pain and he drools like a St. Bernard locked in a butcher shop. That fun combination kept him, me, and his Mom up for most of the Monday night into Tuesday morning campaign.

When my 5:30 a.m. alarm went off, I was already/still awake. I instinctively rolled over and hit the snooze button out of habit even though I would be getting up immediately. I got up to start my day 9 minutes earlier than usual. I got dressed, stuffed my phone in my pocket and made my way to the bathroom. I stood before the porcelain altar to make my morning offering. Normally I would sit for this project having been accustomed to living in a house full of females, but I had just fastened my belt and was too lazy to do it a second time. While standing there frontally exposed with eyes still half closed, I was startled in midstream by my alarm going off a second time. The room off of my bedroom that I like to call the Thunderdome was not designed for its acoustics. I didn’t want to unnecessarily wake anyone in the house who didn’t have to be up yet and was already sleep deprived so I attempted a high risk maneuver. I tried to remove my phone from my pocket while continuing to jettison a full night’s worth of bladder bisque.

I’m pretty sure you’ve figured out where this is going, and it seemed to happen in slow motion. The phone landed dead center in the bowl with a ‘ploop’ sound. If you are a grown man, than you understand that trying to restrain the first pee of the day in midstream is like shaking up a bottle of champagne and trying to keep it in the bottle by setting a single poker chip on top of it. So needless to say, I continued to go as I reticently reached my hand into the Pissific Ocean to retrieve my communication device. But now my aim was at the wall and floor (don’t judge me, I didn’t have to share this with you but I did. You’re welcome!) I worked pretty quickly, but it didn’t change what had happened. My thought process was that it had already been completely submerged so it’s not like it was going to get worse if I rinsed it off with clean water from the sink. So I did. My screen turned a spectrum of colors that I didn’t previously know existed. Thinking quickly, I laid the phone face down on the heat vent and covered it with a hand towel hence forming a tent of dry, hot air that I hoped would dry it quickly. And that’s how my day STARTED!

It’s not even 5:40 in the morning yet and I’ve already used my allotted amount of words. So I’m going to do something I don’t usually do. I’m going to break this one up into two parts so I don’t diminish the story because my day did NOT get better after this. But I’m not going to make you wait a whole week for the other half. It will more than likely be ready for you tomorrow.

Thanks for playing along. I hope you are enjoying a chuckle at my expense.

Syd Nichols