Before I begin, I'd like to point out that I haven't cussed in front of my children since I last wrote. Doesn't seem like a big deal to ya, huh? Well then, you probably haven't spent much time driving around RI. Anyway ...
If you have kids, I'd venture to guess that you have your own little way of telling your kids how much you love them. Ya know what I'm talking about ... Like, with outstretched arms, "I love you this much!" Or, "I love you to the moon and back." Or for the Toy Story fan, "I love you to infinity and beyond!" Well if you don't, what the fuck is wrong with you? Go do it now! Seriously, quit reading this profanity ridden blog post, put down your electronic device, get off your ass, and go tell your kid(s) how much you love them. You filthy dirt bag.
Wow. I'm a rusty writer. What the hell am I writing about?
Oh yeah. We had another one of those wicked Rhode Island blizzards last night. That mother fucker must have dumped 3, no, 4 inches of snow all over the state. I mean damn! Thank God they shut the whole state down. Part of me wants to take all these Rhody pansies to my hometown in the County. Ya know, where school is only canceled when the gasoline in the school buses freezes solid. But I wouldn't do that to all the kind folks up there.
What the? Another tangent? Maybe I should just give up on this one. Fuck it! Here goes ...
The wifey got the day off from work, gotta love higher ed! Which meant that I also (sorta) (kinda) got the "day of", but not really. What shall I do with this found freedom? Oh hell yes! Time to implement that chorizo recipe I've been trying to figure out in my head. Yes. Yes. And yes! I know. I know. This unexpected freedom fell in my lap and you're gonna waste it making chorizo? Yep. The kitchen is my escape. I love making food and to be honest, I haven't been happy since Whole Foods made the switch to chicken chorizo. What the fuck? I personally don't know why anyone would eat chicken, when they can eat pig.
Just in case you don't know anything about chorizo ... It's a spicy Mexican sausage composed of spices, onion, garlic, herb, and a shit ton of chilies. So, I started with dicing the onion and garlic, which turned me into a watery mess. Then, I started ripping into the chillies. Cut 'em open so you can get the seeds out and then a mince. My hands became a hot mess. Every cut, scratch, hangnail, and scar was on fire. Now. Any normal, careful person would have worn gloves. But, I ain't that normal. I also have a tendency to be careless when my mind is focused on getting shit done. Yeah I'm the guy who grinds the lead paint of his house without wearing a respirator. I don't wear earplugs when I fire up the chainsaw. I use my router without eye protection. I would never think about using the guard on my Grizzly. And obviously, I don't fucking wear latex gloves while handling chilies. Thus far, this carelessness has only resulted in losing chunks of both my thumbs. I've been lucky. Jesus! I have a wifey and two kids now! What if? Fuck! I need to stop being so careless with myself.
So, my hands are en fuego. Shit! The kids. I can't go near them with these hands. Hmmmm. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. Sorry honey, I can't change the lil' girl's diaper. Oh babe, can you wipe the lil' man's ass? Cause I can't go near him. Honey .... Now, that's not fair. So, I scrub the shit out of my hands, twice. They no longer feel on fire. Hmmm. Maybe my hands are ok now. But how do I know for sure? I love these kids so much and it will kill me if this act of carelessness (I'm just thinking that I should mention that I'm only ever careless when it comes to my own personal well being. I'm always extremely careful when it comes to other people. It seems that when one's sole focus is on caring for other people, sometimes they neglect themselves.) resulted in any form of discomfort for my kids. This heat is dangerous. Jesus, why didn't I just wear gloves? Next time ...
I've gotta figure out if these hands are okay for touching. But how? Poke myself in the eye? Fuck that! I need to see. Pick my nose? Nah, I'm not sure that would help out the ol' sinus infection that I've been battling. No! Not that. Yes. I love my children that much. I head to the sink and scrub my hands for the third and fourth time. I look at the wifey and borrow one of the lil' mans favorite lines, "I'm off to the potty!'
Oh good lord! I promise to wear ear plugs, eye protection, a respirator, and/or latex gloves when I'm doing things that could potentially cause injury to myself. I promise to be less careless with myself. Shit! I'll even wear knee pads when ... Just. Please. Oh good mother of ... Damn. Dr. Bronner's soap is great stuff. Seriously. Go buy some.
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