To evict Homer. SMS: 1-800-HOMER

No wonder I've received so little feedback lately.
I just found out that my settings for Comments were restricted to Registered Blogger users only.

Well we can't have that.
Especially after my last mildly gross post.
(FYI - I almost deleted it. But self censorship just feels weird)

Please feel free to leave a comment or three.
Prove to me that it's not just Marge hitting refresh on the browser to boost my hit counter!
Is anybody out there?
Sometimes I just feel so ronery.

This can't be good

I'm feeling quite uncomfortable here.
And it's quite painful when I get up to walk around.
(I don't know how I did the 20 minute walk to work today - and manage to stay conscious)

I could take a look, to confirm my suspicions.
But I'm too scared. Too scared to discover that my fears have been realised.

So, it has finally come to this.
It was only a few days ago that I warned Marge about this possibility.
* sigh *

Note to self:

• Tell Marge to take more care when refilling the clothes drawers.
• Remind Homer to be more vigilant when grabbing underwear out of the drawer...

Either I'm inadvertantly wearing Bart's jocks right now, or I've developed substantially overnight. D'oh!

Sister Act

Maggie has reached another milestone.
The artist has awakened! The power of the pencil has been realised! The kitchen is now her canvas!
Yes, Maggie has been caught drawing on the pantry door.

And that's not the whole of it.
As soon as Lisa witnessed Maggie's daring raid, she grabbed a pencil and raced in to join her!

You see, this was one milestone that Lisa had bypassed during her toddler years.
Fortunately for us, Lisa was quite content growing up with the Megasketcher. And she quickly graduated to pencil on paper.

It's funny how Lisa now mimics the behaviour of her younger sister, rather than step up to the role of being big Sis.
We've seen Lisa regress to pointing instead of talking. Crawling instead of walking. And wanting to sit in Maggie's baby seat in the car.
Whenever Maggie runs to me with arms stretched, Lisa is sure to be hot on her heels, screaming to be picked up too.
According to the parenting books, this is all normal. Just a phase.
Enjoy it while it lasts, eh?

Happy xbox360Day - or not

The xbox360 was launched in Australia today.

At the local shopping centre, it was pretty much a non-event.
All of the stores here were demoing Project Gotham Racing 3.
The games shops were practically empty. (Maybe everyone is at home playing with their new 360s?)
Good for me - because it made it easier for me to get my first 'touch'.

On a small standard definition LCD screen, the graphics looked good - but not great.
My 30 second verdict: Yeah, it's pretty nice. But not worth $650.

Until I get a largish HD LCD screen, I'm not too excited or eager to get a 360... yet.
Ask me again around Christmas time.   :)
Or when Halo 3 is announced.

I'm also patiently waiting for the release of the PS3 in November.
A guy at work is a PS fanboy, who is absolutely convinced that Blue-Ray will rule the world and force the DVD format onto the Betamax scrapheap.
I'm not convinced. Though the built-in wireless sounds appealing.

And the mysterious Nintendo Revolution, with its groundbreaking controller - now THAT looks VERY intriguing.

To paraphrase a wise old lasersword wielding muppet:
"Begun, this console war has..."

A not so typical start

The day started fairly typically. Sometime between 2am & 5am, Lisa woke up crying and crawled into our bed. Not long after, Maggie did the same.
Not typical was waking up to see Maggie cheerfully slapping Lisa on the head; Maggie kicking Lisa down the bed. Incredibly, Lisa slept through this barrage of abuse, subconsciously wriggling down the mattress to escape.
Of course, neither sister admitted to remembering any of this in the morning.
I hope this doesn't become a trend.

Simple things that make Homer smile.

• Walking home from work, enjoying the warm evening sun, and having a family of ducks waddle across my path.
• Getting home and crouching down to take off my shoes. I get a welcome home slap on the back by Marge, that puts me off balance... followed by Maggie racing through and slamming her hands on my shoulders. I almost fall over.
• Helping Lisa brush her teeth. And then watching my daughter laugh herself silly - seeing herself mirrored in the tap spout.
  Bart comes in to see what's going on. And then both of them are cacking themselves, pointing at their distorted reflections.
• Hearing Lisa string words together to form simple sentences.
• Maggie. The questioning 'huh?' she utters whenever we ask her a question.
• A spontaneous picnic at the park after work. Seeing Bart overcome his fear of heights to climb to the top of the previously unscalable 'Castle of Terror'.
• Maggie's determination to pick up my mobile phone whenever she sees it, and return it to me.
  

On this day,,,

25 years ago...
My Dad died.

I wish that I could say I knew you well.
But I was just a kid, just a couple years older than Bart is now.
I remember that you were always busy with work, just like I am now - I suppose.
And even though you worked back late, you would still find time to bring back toys. Like father, like son. :)
When I was sick, you'd have a plastic model kit waiting to cheer me up. It didn't matter that they were several years beyond my ability (and I really botched up that Apollo 13. No wonder it wouldn't stand. I had all the legs facing outwards!)

My clearest memory:
You and me, just the 2 of us, in the queue at Hoyts on George St, waiting to see Star Wars.
It must have just opened, because it was so packed.
You also bought me a ViewMaster set, with the Star Wars reels.
And my first Star Wars action figure: R2-D2.

Thanks Dad. You have no idea how close I hold that day to my heart.
(It also kicked off an expensive obsession with Star Wars that has filtered down to your grandson, but I'm cool with that)

I also remember the wake that we had at home, with all our relatives filling the place like sardines.
I remember seeing so many containers of prawn dumplings, but with no appetite to eat them.
I remember sitting on Uncle Mike's lap, sobbing away.
I remember Aunty Jen, wiping my eyes as she struggled to hold back her own tears.
She kept saying "Remember the good times. Remember the good times with your father"
I didn't see the wisdom in that. It just hurt even more. And it made me want to wail even louder.

25 years later...
Aunty Jen and Uncle Mike have also passed on.
And I have more memories. Good times. And tough times.
Yes, I still remember. How could I ever forget?
Miss you heaps.











- Your son