Bnote # 149 – Toddler Times: One Book, Two Books, Red Book, Blue Book

Our story will follow the Kingdom of Skradd,
And a Skradd named O’Marlowe Le Donkey McDad.
His job was to read every book to the Queen,
Her majesty Bailey Brunhilda Von Bean.

She liked to read fifty-three books every day,
And McDad received little to nothing in pay.
Some days he read books by a mother named Goose,

But always read lots by some doctor named Seuss.

She’d throw him a book, slam it down with a plunk.

And three times out of ten he’d get hit in the junk.
All those Skradds down in Skraddville, on days like that say,
McDad’s swollen nads grew three sizes that day.

If there are to be any future McDad’s

He needs to avoid getting hit in those nads.

But nut shot or not, McDad had to go on,
And stifle his screams till the pain was all gone.

For if he did not read that next book quite quickly,

The queen yelled a howl that would make one quite sickly.

You better start reading that tome that you took,

Or suffer the screams of “BOOK BOOK BOOK BOOK BOOK!”

So they enter the realm of a certain feline,

Who wears a sombrero with red and white lines.

Or a nasty green fellow who’s very unhappy,

And decides to become the new Christmas theft chappie.

Or read about Sneetches, both plain and with stars,

Who now aren’t concerned with the stars upon thars.

Or read about fish who are red or are blue,

And swim by in sums numbering one and then two.

He attempted reading Fox in Socks,
But could not read it in a box.
He could not read it in a house,
He could not read it with a mouse.
It tied his tongue so tight, my dear,

He couldn’t read for half a year.

At least that’s what he told the Queen,

Her majesty Bailey Brunhilda Von Bean.

While reading those books he WAS at his best,

But sometimes his tongue just needs a short rest.

Bnote # 148 – Broken Toe Blues

Last week I was not joking when I mentioned I broke my toe. Bailey was upset from waking up early from her nap and not being immediately attended to while I was castigating some hapless customer service peon. I took her to the kitchen, offered her a snack, and put on the Thomas and Friends CD that I “get” to hear at least twice every single day. I tried distracting her by chugging around the kitchen table to the music. I learned the hard way to go counter-clockwise. In my sock feet, I hit my pinky toe on the corner of the kitchen cabinetry. There was an unpleasant snap, and instead of pain, the toe was mostly numb and pointing entirely the wrong direction. Dr. McWifeington later confirmed that my toe was broken. It was extremely painful when I tried to tape it to the next toe, which she says is pretty much the entire course of treatment for a broken pinky toe. Maybe in my lifetime we will see greater medical advancements in the field of toe wellness. We can only hope.

I like to credit my dairy consumption and the resulting calcium fortified bones for getting me through the first 34+ years of my life without any broken bones. But I finally met my match against the kitchen cabinet. For the first couple of days I was able to experience the challenge of wrangling a toddler while hopping around on one foot. At least now I should have a grossly oversized muscular right leg.

The wife obtained a post-op shoe for me to wear to secure the toe, and after a week, it feels better. I can get around alright, even though I am a little gimpy. Half of my foot has been red and purple, and looks like it’s painted with Halloween makeup, or the colors of a beautiful and horribly painful sunset.

Wearing a sandal in 20 degree weather is as awesome as it sounds.

Even though the toe is getting better, it still hurts when a certain toddler, who has little to no concern for anyone but herself, decides she needs to step on it. One day this week she decided to invade the bathroom while I was on the throne and squeeze between the window and the blinds, which apparently is vastly entertaining despite the fact that she can’t see through the privacy glass. She stepped on my toe and I yelped so loudly I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t call the authorities.

Hopefully the toe will be fully healed a month or so from now, and I will be off the disabled list. I don’t want to add any further delays to becoming a 35 year old rookie rugby star.

Bnote # 147 – Modern Life is Too Complicated, or F*** You, Humana

Having been a lawyer, I know complicated. It takes a book wider and with smaller print than my dictionary just to contain the federal tax code. I highly recommend using a tax code volume as a form of home defense—just whack an intruder over the head with it and they will be out for the count.

I can’t really complain about the complexity of a system that I voluntarily chose to be a part of, and is complex because it needs to be to cover all of its bases. But why are so many aspects of daily life becoming fraught with complications? For example, you go to the doctor, he or she, or these days some sort of mega-nurse, writes you a prescription for some drug you need to live, or to not be in horrible pain. Thanks to the wonders of technology, you don’t even have to take a slip to the pharmacy any more. The doctor calls or emails your pharmacy and all you have to do is pick it up and pay. For me, this was the idyllic system before our insurance provider decided our lives were too easy and we needed no free time.

The insurance company (Humana) decided that any medication taken long term must be bought from them, which would be fine if they would just send it to me. But no, I had to:

1) Sign up for an account on a third party website,

2) Enter tons of information,

3) Get to a page asking for drug allergies,

4) Call the company because my drug allergy isn’t listed,

5) Get transferred to another person to tell me I can’t use my discount card,

6) Enter my billing information,

7) Have the website tell you that it can’t process your order but doesn’t say why,

8) Try steps 1 through 3 and 6 again, and fail again,

9) Figure out that some programming genius was apparently unaware that 184 million computer users use Firefox as a web browser, try again on another computer with Internet Explorer,

10) Repeat steps 1 through 3 and 6,

11) Print out confirmation page/receipt and fill out form to use my discount card on the manufacturer’s end,

12) Realize I never got an order confirmation email from the insurance website nor does my order appear under order history,

13) Call the company and learn through their annoying automated system that they have no order for me,

14) Talk to an actual person, named Bryce who verified that they have no order for me,

15) Give Bryce the worst verbal beatdown he has ever received in his life, give him every bit of relevant information, and demand resolution and a callback,

16) Go calm down Bailey, who woke up early from her nap and was upstairs screaming for 10 minutes,

17) Try to entertain an upset toddler with Thomas and Friends music while chugging around the kitchen table,

18) Break pinky toe on the corner of the cabinets while chugging around the kitchen table.

19) Never receive a callback from Humana.

20) Die a horribly painful death without my medication or from a blood clot caused by the broken toe. This hasn’t happened yet---this step is merely a projection.

Now steps number 16 through 18 are probably atypical. But everything else is an accurate depiction of the hours spent and 15 steps required to fail to get a simple prescription that was previously as easy as driving down the street to get it.

I was going to give some other examples, but half of this saga was going on as I was attempting to write this, and as it unfolded it allowed the bnote to grow to ample length. Also my toe is freaking killing me so I need to go. Feel free to share your similar frustrations.

Humana must be Latin for running a business with as little human interaction or regard for people as humanly possible.

Bnote # 146 – Toddler Times: The Whirling Dervish

I love Bailey intensely, but for the love of monkey butts, she is driving me crazy. The wife has likened her to Yoda—not wise Yoda, or lightsaber fighting badass Yoda, but Yoda when Luke first meets him and doesn’t know he’s Yoda. That’s when Yoda’s just an annoying little gremlin digging through Luke’s stuff, and mostly throwing it on the ground. That is Bailey’s modus operandi.

She is a whirling dervish of destruction wherever she goes. Imagine the Tasmanian Devil (the cartoon character, not the badger-like animal) flying through your house, but instead of protecting yourself from it, you have to protect it from itself. Bailey seems unable to learn what things cause pain, such as gravity. Last week she climbed her high chair while I was washing its tray, and she decided to base jump without a parachute. I follow her practically everywhere she goes, but it’s hard to predict the actions of a human pinball.

Whirling Dervishes are actually members of the Mevlevi religious sect in Turkey who twirl around in remembrance of god. Bailey twirls a lot, but her motives are yet a mystery.

You’d think all this activity, such as yelling “Run!” and running in a circle several times in a row, several times a day, would tire Bailey out. But she has actually started fighting naptime. What kind of unreasonable person would refuse a nap when the opportunity presents itself? Bailey would not take a nap today at her usual time, and she has learned to fake me out to escape naps. All she has to do is start yelling “Eat!” and as a slightly-better-than-negligent parent, I can’t ignore her cries of hunger. But much of the time, it’s a trick to get her away from bed, and she won’t eat. However, she is smart enough to eat some of the time, so I can never be sure if I’m being faked out until it happens. Yes, I have been repeatedly outwitted by a 19 month old.

Anyhow, she finally fell asleep today, two and a half hours after her usual naptime, in the comfort of her high chair, covered in shredded cheese, with Thomas and Friends music blaring, the washer and dryer running, and me clanging pans loading the dishwasher. At least now I know the proper sleeping environment for tomorrow.

Bnote # 145 – 2012

Frankly, I am glad to see 2011 come to an end. I don’t tend to fare well in odd numbered years. Looking back, odd numbered years have brought me family deaths, heartbreak, and pestilence of every kind. In 2011, there were only a few deaths and heartbreaks, but pestilences included an infected spider bite causing body-wide rash, my first ever strep throat illness, and whatever malady causes one to see and hear Thomas the Tank Engine everywhere.

Some crackpots believe the world will end this year on December 21, 2012, all because of a misrepresentation that the Mayan calendar “ends” on that date. Hopefully a couple thousand years from now, some jerks won’t think the world is ending in December 31, 3000 because that marked the end of a millennium by our time and calendar usage. But just in case this is everyone’s last year alive, here’s a totally not fake, totally achievable bucket list:

-Cure cancer for fun only, since it won’t matter anymore.

-Write the greatest novel ever written and beam it into space, only to be read posthumously by aliens, who believe it to be the work of a deity-like figure.

-Build Bailey an Earth escape pod, so she can travel to a distant planet where she will have awesome powers because that planet has a different colored sun. For some reason only Bailey can fit in the pod and not me too.

-Make love to a supermodel, while riding a roller coaster, while eating ice cream, while winning the Super Bowl.

-Invent time travel, so I can avoid the end of the world in the past, or in a future in which there is somehow no world.

Unfortunately for the Maya, the world ended for them a long time before their calendar “ran out.” Their 144,000 day calendar ended up being wishful thinking.


Alas, the world is not going to end in 2012. Even if the world were blown up by aliens, or scientists created a singularity (black hole) inside its center, or an asteroid collided with it, or Buddha smote it with his Buddha-hammer, it would still exist, even if it were merely pieces of floating debris. So there.

The year 2012 will instead be known as the year that saw:

-Michael Phelps winning every Olympic medal, even in basketball, fencing, etc.

-Barack Obama winning the presidential election by default because nobody wanted to vote.

-George W. Bush checking off the other two boxes on his axis-of-evil checklist as we go to war with Iran and North Korea.

-The launching of the Chinese space station, which will feature a buffet-style restaurant serving five flavors of pudding.

-The release of the iPad 2, featuring wings and an ultra-absorptive liner.

Bnote # 144 – Toddler Times: Holiday Aftermath

This time of year is so hectic that I completely forgot to write a bnote, so here is a brief, hastily written pile of crap for your reading pleasure.

Our house looks like a toy bomb went off. Bailey definitely made out with a large quantity of Christmas loot. She got a rocking horse, a shopping cart, an alphabet easel, a lego house, and a million other trinkets. My parents got her the two loudest and annoying items--a singing, noisemaking kitchen set and a talking, moving Thomas the Tank Engine, as if listening to the egomaniacal d-bag didn’t already grate on my nerves. I’m calling Thomas the d-bag, not my parents, just to make that clear. I can only assume my parents are seeking revenge on me for being an obnoxious child, which I’m sure I was. Obnoxious children grow into obnoxious adults, right? Surely there are studies out there linking this. Anyhow, Bailey loves the toys, so that’s all that matters. Thanks mom and dad.

And because Thomas couldn’t follow simple instructions, the house was a huge mess and Christmas was ruined.

After a week of vacation, the wife went back to work today so we can pay off the orgy of spending that took place this month. That’s orgy, as in “a lot,” not orgy as in “a lot of naked people engaging in unspeakable and possibly awesome acts.” Things are returning to normal, and it’s just me and Bailey again, except Bailey is ignoring me because she has 20 toys that are more interesting than I am. She likes to push around her new shopping cart and fling the wooden toy groceries loudly to the hardwood floors. It’s like she’s trying to dent the cans to get a discount on her groceries. Also she keeps flipping the cart over with a baby doll in it and exclaiming “Baby hurt!” Maybe she’s practicing her fake slip and fall lawsuit tactics, or is exhibiting the early stages of Münchausen syndrome by proxy. Look it up, I provided a link.

Bnote # 143 – Rudolph the Reindeer v. North Pole Distributing, Inc., et al.

ARCTIC TERRITORY

NORTH POLE CIRCUIT COURT
CIVIL ACTION FILE NO. 2011-CI-________

COMPLAINT

RUDOLPH THE REINDEER                                                PLAINTIFF
v.

NORTH POLE DISTRIBUTING, INC.                                 DEFENDANTS
KRIS KRINGLE
COMET THE REINDEER


Comes now the Plaintiff, Rudolph the Reindeer, and for his claim herein against the Defendants, states and alleges as follows:

1. Plaintiff Rudolph the Reindeer (“Rudolph”) resides at 283 Cave St., Christmastown, North Pole.

2. Defendant North Pole Distributing, Inc. is a corporation with its principal place of business located at 100 Santa Claus Ln., Christmastown, North Pole.

3. Defendant Kris Kringle (aka Santa Claus) (“Kringle”) is an individual residing at 200 Santa Claus Ln., Christmastown, North Pole, and is the President, CEO, and self-proclaimed “King of Jingling” of North Pole Distributing, Inc.

4. Defendant Comet the Reindeer (“Comet”) is an individual residing at 242 Cave St., Christmastown, North Pole, and is an employee of North Pole Distributing, Inc.

5. Defendant North Pole Distributing, Inc. runs a youth training program, commonly known as Reindeer Games, for applicants to its distribution center’s transport division.

6. Defendant Comet is the immediate supervisor to all trainee applicants and makes hiring recommendations to the President and CEO of North Pole Distributing, Inc.

7. Defendant Kringle makes all hiring decisions for North Pole Distributing, Inc.

8. Rudolph applied to the Reindeer Games training program and participated in a single session.

9. During said session, Defendants Comet and Kringle observed Rudolph and commented positively about his abilities as a reindeer.

10. During said session, Comet and the other trainees discovered that Rudolph suffers from a physical impairment known as erythema nasalis, which makes his nose shine bright red, but causes no medical problems other than aesthetic ones.

11. When the other trainees discovered Rudolph’s impairment, they called him disparaging names, including, but not limited to fire snoot, bright schnozz, rainbow puss, neon nose, and Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.

12. Defendant Comet did nothing to curtail the taunts made by trainees under his supervision, and in fact joined them, stating “From now on, gang, we won’t let Rudolph join in any of our Reindeer Games.”

13. Defendant Kringle was present during the training session and concurred with Comet, telling Rudolph’s father “You should be ashamed of yourself. What a pity. He had a nice takeoff too.”

14. Kringle was previously made aware of Rudolph’s disability and told Rudolph’s parents that Rudolph was “smart” but that they had better hope the disability went away if he was ever going to pull Kringle’s sleigh.

Reindeer with Disabilities Act (RDA) (42 Arctic Territory Code § 12111 et seq.)

15. Plaintiff incorporates herein as if set forth verbatim hereafter, each of the allegations contained paragraphs 1 through 14 above.

16. Rudolph’s abilities and superior performance in the Reindeer Games training program clearly qualified him for consideration and placement in North Pole Distributing, Inc’s transport division.

17. Although Defendants Comet and Kringle admitted to Rudolph’s superior aptitude, they would not consider him as an employment candidate and barred him from further training strictly due to his disability.

18. The actions of Defendants constitute intentional and insidious discrimination against a reindeer with disabilities in violation of the Reindeer with Disabilities Act (RDA) 42 A.T.C. § 12111 et seq.

19. Plaintiff is entitled to damages for loss of income, and punitive damages as provided by statute.

Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress

20. Plaintiff incorporates herein as if set forth verbatim hereafter, each of the allegations contained paragraphs 1 through 19 above.

21. Defendant Comet encouraged and participated in the public taunting of Plaintiff due to his disability.

22. Defendant Kringle made multiple suggestions to Rudolph’s parents, in front of Rudolph, that they should be ashamed for having a disabled child.

23. Defendants have intentionally, recklessly, and maliciously engaged in outrageous conduct.

24. Plaintiff has incurred damages as a result of the severe mental distress caused by Defendant’s actions.


WHEREFORE, Plaintiff Rudolph the Reindeer respectfully requests as follows:

1. Judgment against Defendants for damages exceeding the jurisdictional minimum amount of this Court;

2. Punitive damages for intentional tortious action by Defendants;

3. Plaintiff’s costs;

4. Any other remedy this Court may grant.


_______________________________
Jack Frost, Esq.
1400 Frost King Rd., Suite 300
Kaffeklubben Island, Greenland

Click here to watch Exhibit A.

Next year tune in for State v. Yukon Cornelius and Hermey the Elf, both charged with animal cruelty against an endangered yeti.