My Horse Self

TWO YEARS ago, I wrote this post about how Mitch verbally abuses me.  He still brings up the fact that if I was a horse, I would in NO WAY be the horse in the picture I used for the post.  He says I really must think I'm something if I think I would look like that as a horse, because that horse is magnificent.

this horse

Honestly, I just Googled a picture of a brown horse and picked that one because it looked nice.  I didn't really think that I would look like that as a horse because who thinks that?  Who thinks, "I wonder what I would look like if I were a horse?" and then searches for pictures of horses who they think they would look like?  Not me.  I mean, I know if I were a horse, I'd be a brown horse, but that's about it.  I suppose I subconsciously chose a brown horse because I think I'd be a brown horse if I were a horse.  So why wouldn't I choose a magnificent horse???

The other day when Mitch brought it up again ("Remember when you posted that picture of a horse on your blog? I can't believe you think you would look like that if you were a horse,") I gave in and asked him what kind of horse I would be if I were a horse.  He thought about it for a few seconds and then said, "You'd be a pony."  I thought awww sweet, he thinks I'm cute and good with children!  Then he added, "They live forever and are mean the whole time."   Then he said, "Just kidding!" and said I'd be a fjord horse "because they are so friendly." Here's a fjord horse.

WTF, Mitch?

I was instructed that the friendliness was where the comparison ended, and not to focus on the short stumpy legs and thick body.  He was starting to get in pretty deep.

Last night my friend Ann, who has a pony and a horse, posted this great picture on Facebook:

I showed Mitch the picture and asked him which of these two horses I would look like, if I were a horse. He laughed and laughed. It was a nervous laugh. I don't know why. I think it is obvious that I would be the big brown beautiful horse. Not the pudgy pony. It's not a trick question, Mitch. Just tell the truth. Would I be the sleek shiny brown horse, or the pony with a stumpy neck and thunder thighs?  Huh?  Which one?

So I challenged him to find a picture of what he would look like as a horse.  He actually Googled "What would I look like as a horse."  And this is what he swears Google came up with:

Yeah, right.

Today he sent me this in an email that just said, "My horse self"

my husband

So what would you look like if you were a horse?

Dadisms

Last weekend Mitch and his brother Mat brought all of our kids up to Rainy Lake to spend TWO WEEKS with their grandparents at the cabin.  The girls are going to attend a hockey camp.  While Mat and Mitch were there over the weekend they had to pack two weeks of parenting into a couple of days which resulted in some good "Dadisms" that I'm sure the kids will remember and tease them about for many years to come.  When the teenage girls got a little snotty and entitled and generally teenage-y Mat told them,

"I think you're special. Grandma thinks you're special.  But nobody else does and someday Grandma is going to die, and someday I am going to die. Then who will think you're special?  Nobody."

Thanks, Dad!

International Falls is a small town and the girls are planning to ride bikes around town which led to this exchange between Mitch, Mitch's dad, and the girls:

Mitch: This is a smaller town than you're used to.  The boys are going to be more aggressive here because they have to be.  

Mitch's Dad:  Yeah, you're going to have to skate harder to keep up with the boys.

Mitch:  You know I'm not talking about hockey, right?

Girls: ..... Yes.

Last year when the kids were getting ready to spend a few weeks at the cabin Mitch asked them if they were all packed which led to the inevitable sigh and strained whiny, "Yes, DAD." And Mitch said, "Do you have your toothbrushes?"  They didn't.  Then Mitch yelled this gem:

"Come on!  This isn't a holiday from hygiene!"

Which has had me laughing for over a year.  The kids still don't find it funny but someday they will.   

Brief Jerky

It was our wedding anniversary over the weekend!  Mitch tells me that the fifteenth anniversary is the one where it is traditional to give beef jerky.  In fact, he sent me a link to a website that makes "brief jerky."

I understand the (gross) principle behind edible underwear, but I think it would be more practical to make it thong-like and made of fruit roll-up material or cotton candy.  Beef jerky is a little tough and salty.  You don't want to spend all your foreplay time chewing and drinking water to quench your unquenchable thirst.

Happy Anniversary to me! (and Mitch)

Hidden Pictures

After dinner we were just sitting around and Mitch found a Highlights Magazine that we just got in the mail.  I don't know why we get Highlights Magazine.  I certainly never ordered it.  Our kids are teenagers, they don't read it.  I think Mitch ordered it.  Why would a 40 year old man want Highlights?  I wouldn't have known how to answer that question one hour ago, but since then Mitch has told me (although he didn't specifically admit he ordered it).  He said, "Highlights of this Highlights Magazine:  The picture find and the riddles.  Lowlights:  all the stories."  I happened to be at my computer while he was working so diligently on the picture find and I had the the chance to capture what happened after he got serious and got a marker.    

Mitch: ... Well... I'm really kicking ass now...

Mitch:  Yes.  Is this a toothbrush?  Yes.  It's gotta be.  Yes.

Mitch:  That is clearly something.  Is it a golf club?  Sure it is, but which way does it go?  Oh, that way.

Mitch:  What is this?  It's clearly something.  Is it a flower?

Me:  No, I think it's an egg.

Mitch:  There is no egg on the list.  It's not an egg. 

Mitch:  This looks like a sock but it's not on the list.  Why would they put a sock in here?

Me:  Are there bonus items?  Maybe it's a bonus item.

Mitch:   There are bonus items!  It's a bonus item!

Mitch:  Cupcake.... where's the fucking cupcake.  It's got to be somewhere.  

Mitch:  OH!  I've been looking at that egg all the time and it's the cupcake!

Me:  So you thought it was an egg too.

Mitch:  No, I said it's not an egg.  It's the cupcake.

Me:  (laughing)

Mitch:  WHAT?  I LIKE these!

Mitch:  I can't believe that dog didn't have anything on him.

Mitch:  I got an A on this.

Mitch:  (paging through the rest of the magazine)  Just because the kids don't like this magazine doesn't mean it's not a good magazine.  (continuing to page through)...... maybe it's not.  

Mitch:  Hey!  The riddles!  What will happen if you throw a white hat into the Red Sea?

Me:  It will turn pink?

Mitch:  No.  It will get wet!  

Me:  Ugh.

Mitch:  Why was the police officer always sleeping?  

Me:  (sigh)... I don't know.

Mitch:  She was "A-RESTIN'"!!!

Me:  Oh jeez.

Mitch:  Why did the mattress store employee get in trouble?

Me:  He was sleeping on the...HE WAS SLEEPING ON THE JOB!!!

Mitch: No, he was a pedophile.

(I don't think that last joke was actually in there)  Anyway, here is his hidden picture puzzle:

  

Beating Up Animals

Remember this conversation I had with Mitch?

Mitch:  What is the biggest primate you think I could beat up?

Me:  .....???? .... what?

Mitch:  (sigh) What is the biggest primate you think I could beat up?

Me:  Like, win in a fist fight?

Mitch:  Yeah.

Me:  A spider monkey?  Lemur maybe?

Mitch: (clearly insulted)  No way!  I could at least take on a baboon!

Me:  No, you couldn't.  They are vicious.

Mitch:  Yeah, but they're not that big.  Just a minute, I'll google it...

And so on...

Well this conversation isn't over, apparently.  Yesterday Mitch asked me if I think he could beat up a chicken, specifically a rooster.  I think he is just fishing for compliments.  This is how that conversation went:

Mitch:  Do you think I could take on a rooster?

Me:   No.

Mitch:  Yes I could!  You know I could.  But what if it was the size of Foghorn Leghorn?  Do you think I could then?

Not a chance, Mitch.  Especially if he had that board.

Me:  I already told you, I don't think you could beat up a real rooster, not to mention a man-sized cartoon rooster with hands.

Mitch:  Yes I could!  It's a bird.  They are like, three pounds.  But anyway, what if it was man-sized?  Do you think I could then?

Me:  No.  Roosters are meaner than you think.  If it could get you down, any rooster could kill you.  What they lack in bone density, they make up for in rage and evil savageness.

Mitch:  How would they get me down???

Me:  I don't know.  I just know that a smart person wouldn't lay down in front of a mean rooster.  Or they're dead.

Mitch:  THAT's ridiculous.

"Bring it, Bitch."

Recurring Themes

Last night while Mitch and I were watching TV, he started a conversation with me.  This has been an ongoing topic that he apparently hasn't gotten a satisfactory conclusion to because it is something we have discussed in the past.  This is how it started the first time we had this particular conversation:

Mitch:  What is the biggest primate you think I could beat up?

Me:  .....???? .... what?

Mitch:  (sigh) What is the biggest primate you think I could beat up?

Me:  Like, win in a fist fight?

Mitch:  Yeah.

Me:  A spider monkey?  Lemur maybe?

Mitch: (clearly insulted)  No way!  I could at least take on a baboon!

Me:  No, you couldn't.  They are vicious.

Mitch:  Yeah, but they're not that big.  Just a minute, I'll google it...

I thought he was Googling baboons to see how big and tough they are.  It's what any smart opponent would do, learn what you can about your foe, right?  But he wasn't Googling baboons.  He typed "Biggest primate I could beat up" into Google Images.  Here is the result he got:

It was the Google equivalent of saying, "IN YOUR FACE!"  I will say that I agree with Google that Mitch could beat up the monkey pictured above, but only because I think her beads would get in her way.

So last night, completely out of the blue, like always, Mitch said to me:

"I could easily beat up a sun bear, but not a black bear."

Me:  You could not beat up a sun bear.  They are BEARS.

Mitch:  Sure I could.  They're small.

Me:   They're not that small.

Mitch:  They range from 40 to 160 pounds.

Me:  That's oddly specific.  I still don't think you could beat one up.  Even the 40 pound ones are 40 pounds of teeth and claws.

Mitch:  I could beat any one of them up.

Me:  Even the big 160 pounders?

Mitch:  Yes.

Me:... (letting the conversation die.)

Mitch:......

Me:................

Mitch:  I still think I could beat up a baboon.  Especially if he tried to take my chips.

Me:  .... what...??????????????

Mitch:  Why are you looking at me like that?  What's the biggest animal you could beat up?  A bird?

This weird conversation is starting to get contentious.  If I really have to think about it, I think I could easily take on a smallish dog or a declawed cat.  At least I have the common sense to stick with domesticated animals.

Does anyone know where I could set up a relatively safe fight with a baboon or a large sun bear so Mitch can prove his theories?  I think we would all like to know how this shakes out.

Things Mitch says to me when he's procrastinating on the internet

"Did you know that a nude painting of Bea Arthur sold for over a million dollars?"

"Ha ha, this guy says Bea Arthur has 'heavy hangers.'"

"Look, Bea Arthur has a mug shot!  ... Oh wait, she was in the marines.  She was in the MARINES!"

"I wonder if any of the other Golden Girls posed nude..."

"Wow, Betty White was naked a LOT."

"Is it R-e-w, or R-u-e?"

"Rue McLanahan played it loose, but she wasn't in real life, apparently. No nudes.  Now that's an actress."

"I should get back to work."

"How do you spell 'Estelle Geddy?'"

Hammocking

I came home from work the other day and spotted Mitch relaxing in the hammock I got him for Father's Day last year and that he never uses.  I immediately went over to join him and you'd think I was trying to spray him in the face with the hose the way he jumped up (Or tried to jump up.  There is no quick jumping out of a hammock).  I had to literally push him back down while simultaneously trying to get on the hammock, and he couldn't really fight because if he did, he'd lose hammock-balance and would get flipped on to the ground.  We struggled like that for several seconds until he finally got away.  My question is this:  Why can't he just romantically laze in the hammock with me for a while?  I picture this:

"Ahhh... I love you."

But I end up with this:

"You fucker."

Hammock-snuggling is not that bad, MITCH.

Remember, eel holes

Mitch woke up this morning and noticed the words "eel holes" written on his hand in his own writing. He couldn't begin to fathom what it meant or when or why he wrote it. He was still thinking about it in the shower when his phone beeped reminding him of an appointment he didn't know he had. He looked at the phone and all it said was "Remember, eel holes, 10:00." Mitch vaguely remembered having a dream about the ubiquitous problem of eels coming out of the river and crawling around on land. Apparently he had some brilliant idea for trapping them in eel holes but now he can't remember it. Anyone know anything about eel holes or capturing land-dwelling eels?

"Where's mah HOLE!"

The Most Dangerous Gun

Kira: Dad, what do you think the most dangerous gun is made of?

Mitch: Cyanide

Kira: No I mean, what is the most dangerous gun?

Mitch:  I don't know.  An Uzi?

Kira:  I think it would be a gun that shoots gum.  You could shoot it into someone's mouth and they'd choke on it.

Sam:  What if someone right behind them gave them the Heimlich?

Kira:  Wouldn't work.  Gum is too sticky.

Sam: No it isn't!

Kira: Sure it is, watch.

(She then lodges her own gum in a position to block her own throat.  You know, to prove her stupid point.  Being that she's still alive and did not choke to death, Sam was proven to be right.)

Kira:  Oh, you're right, it slides right down.

Sam:  ..... Oh my god.

If Tim Gunn and Macgyver had a baby...

Mitch had a piece of plastic poking out under his shirt today so I pulled it and we got into an altercation.  Here is the dialogue:

Me:  What's this?
Mitch:  DON'T PULL ON IT!  It's my belt!
Me: It's not a belt, it's plastic, what is it?
Mitch:  It's made of zip ties, okay?  Stop pulling it!  I can't loosen it!
Me:  SHUT UP! You made a BELT from zip ties!!  WHY?
Mitch:  STOP PULLING ON IT!  Oh great now it's too tight...  I was at work and I needed a belt so I made one, okay?
Me:  But zip-ties?  Let me see it...
Mitch:  Hands off!  Now I have to cut it off!  Thanks a lot!
Me:  Oh my god, it really is a zip tie belt!
Mitch:  Where're the scissors... Jesus.  These zip ties aren't cheap, you know!  You ruined it!
Me:  But how were you going to get it off?
Mitch: CUT IT!  But I didn't need to cut it off yet!  I had it just right!
Me:  YOU CAN'T WEAR ZIP TIES AS A BELT!
Mitch:  I THINK I ALREADY DID ALL DAY LONG!
Me: ........
Mitch: .........
Me: ........
Mitch: You can't blog about this.
Me:  I can't NOT blog about this.

Happy Birthday Mitch "Live Birth" Johnson!

My wonderful husband whose legal name is "Live Birth Johnson" is 42 today. (His parents didn't choose a name before he left the hospital so that's what his birth certificate says.)

Last year's birthday cake.  My decorating skills are nothing to write home about.

Although today is the actual day of his birth, he insists we celebrate and give him preferential treatment all month.  He says custom dictates that you can celebrate your birth month from your actual birthday until the end of the month, which works out good for him because his birthday is on the 3rd, but kind of stinks for the rest of the family: my birthday is the 29th, Sam's is the 30th and Kira's is the 31st of our respective birth months.  When we point out the unfairness of such a system he says, "Too bad for you."

Year 40 cake.  Didn't have enough room to write out
happy birthday.  The sexy Playboy Bunny took up
too much room.

In honor of his special day I am going to re-post my favorite post featuring Mitch.  It was originally called Seven Secrets to a Fabulous Marriage

Mitch says he doesn't like when I write about him on the blog, but I think we all know that's a big fat lie because who doesn't like to see their name in print, am I right?  We have been married for a loooong time, like almost half my life (assuming I'm 26), which surprises and amazes me because before him I was never with anyone longer than a year.  People just get on my nerves after a while, know what I mean?  Not that I didn't mean it when I said, "Til death do us part,"  I totally did, I just assumed one of us would kill the other by now (thank you for not killing me yet, Mitch).  Since I am obviously so incredibly good at being married, I'm going to give you some of the secrets to my amazing success which, in a phrase, is this:  set the bar low.

1.  On your honeymoon, if things start getting too romantic and spectacular, get diarrhea so badly that when you emerge from the bathroom in the teeny tiny cabin you're staying in, you find your new husband holding one of the clove-scented coasters you got for a wedding present against his face to keep himself from gagging.  If he stays with you, that's good, if he stays in the cabin with you, it's true love.

2.  When you are pregnant and miserable and he gets you flowers to try to brighten your day; because that is so out of character for him, and also because you are absolutely mental when you're pregnant, accuse him of stealing the flowers and then look in the checkbook register to see if he actually paid for them.  Don't expect flowers again after that for a long time, but it's worth it because it's important to set mental-health low points early on.

3.  Let your wife know you are the man of the house.  Let her know you are going to be there and provide for and protect her and the little ones.   Mark your territory and don't leave any doubt as to whose territory it is:

Just to be on the safe side, you better use your last name, or at least your last initial,
 in case the little woman is simple-minded.  

4.  In a successful marriage it is understood that as you grow older, you will change physically and probably lose a little of the initial hotness that got you together in the first place.  A good spouse knows that and accepts it.  A really good spouse will morph into a cartoon character to keep things "interesting."

                     

5.  Teach your wife to appreciate things she never in a million years thought she would appreciate.  Say something like, "If I ever poop the bed, tonight will be the night," and then when you don't poop the bed, she will actually be happy!  And grateful!  And all you have to do is NOT poop in your bed!

6.  Laugh together.  When your adolescent boy comes out of his room wearing pants four inches too short because nobody has done laundry in a week and the boy grows out of clothes at an obnoxious rate; purely for the entertainment of your beloved, one of you should say, "Hey, nice pants!  Where's the flood?" which will make the other one laugh hysterically.  Who cares how the boy feels?  He's got to get used to people laughing at him if he's going to wear pants like that anyway.

7.  Support each other's interests.  If she gets obsessed with shoving live plants in jars with rocks until your whole house is full of terrariums and the moss patch in your yard is full of divots SO BE IT. If he gets carried away with installing poles so that your back yard looks like a forest full of leafless yellow-trunked trees, LEARN TO LOVE IT.

That sums up the glue that holds my marriage together.  What are your tips?

Hot hot hot!

Things overheard in my bedroom last weekend:

“You have to line the holes up or it won't fit straight.”

“What do you think, upper holes or lower holes?”

“I'm not ready! Don't push yet!”

“You want me to pound that in for you?”

“Maybe don't screw that in all the way yet.”

“Ha, I finished before you AGAIN!”

“Okay, let's do this again.  WAIT Wrong hole! Wrong hole! Back up!”

“Oh, I don't know, I think this is going to be TOO HOT.”

“This is IMPOSSIBLE to get in.”

“Just fold it over your thumb and shove it in.”

All this because I went to IKEA and got a brand new bed!  Ta da!

I wasn't going to buy anything but then I saw the duvet cover and I LOVED it.  But I didn't have a duvet, so I had to get a duvet.  Then since I knew I had to go through the cash registers anyway, I went a little nuts.  I got a bunch of other stuff and then I thought to myself, "Self, why not get a bed frame as long as you're going to pack your car up to the gills anyway," so I got the bedframe too.  Then I came home and Mitch and I assembled our bed and stuffed the new duvet into the duvet cover, hence the dialog at the top.  The duvet is nuclear hot but I'm so determined to use it that we sleep with the window open.  

As Promised...

I got my school pictures back.  Remember when  I told you that I forgot it was picture day and then I found out that not only do all the kids have their pictures taken, but the teachers do too?  I am notoriously unphotogenic and this was emphasized by the laughing and re-taking of my picture three times by the photographer who saw the pictures on a monitor.  She eventually put me in the most unnatural position ever, had me crane my upper body one way, tilt my head down, and then look up off to the side.  It felt so weird.  It was so weird.

It doesn't look like a totally unnatural position when you look at it here, but my legs were pointing out behind me. I especially like the way my chin bunched up because she had me look down, and the way my eyes are pointing different directions because I was confused about which direction I was supposed to be looking.  I have chameleon eyes, did you know?  Mitch insists that I give him one of the wallet-sized ones and write something meaningful on the back.  "Hey Mitch!  You're AWESOME!  We should totally get together and party this summer!  BFFs 4EVA!  Love, Your wife!

Beauty is in the eye tooth of the beholder

Mitch and the kids and I went to see that movie Here Comes the Boom with Kevin James as a teacher who goes on the ultimate fighting circuit to raise money for his school.  It wasn't a good movie, but the kids liked it.  Salma Hayek was in it and was gorgeous as usual.  I said something about how pretty she is on the way home, thinking Mitch would be all over that and he said, "Her teeth are weird.  It's like her molars are only about a millimeter long."

He sees a picture like the one above and now I know that he's not looking at anything but her back teeth and judging her negatively on their shortness.  Luckily for Mitch and I, my back teeth are looooooong..... ooo baby.....

I Might Be Really Sick

Something is happening to me and I don't like it.  My skin is raw and tender and dry, and my tongue is so tender and chapped that I could barely eat the chili cheese Fritos I had with my lunch.  Barely.  I'm actually kind of regretting the Fritos because I don't think they were worth all this pain.  Mitch says that it sounds like an allergy and I said, "But what in the world could I be allergic to???" and he suggested it's the neighbor's dog that I have stolen made friends with.

I let her in our house every night to sit on my lap and watch TV (we like the same shows).  Mitch isn't crazy about it because he is afraid we are going to get busted by the neighbors and he's sure that she will just happen to be on Mitch's lap when the angry neighbor looks in the glass door and sees his dog with her new family.  I don't think I'm allergic to her.  I'm not allergic to dogs, Mitch, I mean, "DOCTOR."  And my tongue is the most affected part of my body and I don't lick the dog.  You'd think if I was allergic to her I would have itchy hands or an itchy lap, but I don't, Dr. Oz; I don't.

If I was going to self-diagnose (which I always do) I would guess that I probably have the beginning stages of leprosy or scurvy.  Or maybe Vitamin D poisoning.  Mitch, are you lacing my food with extra Vitamin D???  My plan for dealing with this problem is to do nothing different and escalate the whining and complaining.  

I Love Duluth

This afternoon the family and I went on a St. Louis River tour with the St. Louis River Restoration Initiative.  We took a big tour boat through the Duluth Harbor and up the river a ways.  It was a beautiful day and we had lots of fun.

This is a train bridge that goes across the river and when a boat comes the center of it pivots and makes room for boats to go through.  There was a guy in the little bridge-house watching us.  I waved at him but he didn't wave back.  We came really close to an iron ore ship too, but I was too busy eating meatballs to take a picture.

The part we toured is an estuary so we saw lots of birds and I saw a fish jump out of the water, but nobody else did, and the tour guide said there are fish as big as five feet long in the water.  Yikes.

Of course, we were on a boat so it didn't take Kira long to figure out that we were held captive so she tortured us all a little.  Mitch got butt bumped about 5000 times, I got my tenders pinched, and all she had to do to drive Sam crazy is touch his back.  I have to admire her ability to ride the line of being annoying enough to cause exasperation, but not annoying enough to get thrown over the side.  That's my girl!

The best part of the tour was when we pulled back up to the pier.  There were about 50 people looking over the side while the crew tied up the boat and this guy busted out on his unicycle and rode down the middle of the street.

It's not a quiet street.  He was in the middle of traffic.

I love Duluth.

Lethal Weapon II

Last night Mitch and I watched Lethal Weapon II.  You know what I figured out?  I figured out why the movies are called Lethal Weapon.  Mel Gibson IS the Lethal Weapon.  Is he crazy?  Or is he just crazy good?  We still don't know.

I think I saw Lethal Weapon II when it came out in the eighties because I remember the iconic "toilet scene."  But I'm getting ahead of myself.  This film starts with Murtaugh (Danny Glover) and Riggs (Mel Gibson) in a car chase in Murtaugh's wife's station wagon.  Murtaugh drives this big woody station wagon throughout the whole movie which makes me wonder why the L.A. police department would allow that.  It seems a little unprofessional to have a detective driving around in car chases in a grocery grabber, but hey, what do I know, I live in fly-over country.  And also, isn't Murtaugh's wife a little put-out that her husband is using her car every day?  How is she getting around?  Why doesn't Murtaugh use his own car for work?  Anyway, Riggs and Murtaugh and a bunch of other rag-tag, lovable detectives are chasing a guy who eventually crashes and a bunch of gold treasure comes out of his trunk.  That's not a euphemism either.  Literally, a bunch of gold coins spill from the trunk of the bad guy's car.

It turns out that the bad guy with the treasure is a South African diplomat and the South Africans are running some kind of illegal drug trade in L.A. and are getting paid in gold coins, apparently; and they are dodging law enforcement because of their diplomatic status.  Riggs is on to them and starts to sort of stalk the main South African bad guy because if Mel Gibson hates anything, it's racism and apartheid and those South Africans are all about apartheid.  He will not put up with that shit. Riggs meets a South African hottie that works at the embassy(?) and he starts up a relationship with her, if you can call practically kidnapping her and bringing her to his crappy trailer and having marathon sex a relationship.

While Mel is with this woman, the South Africans start assassinating all of the rag-tag police team that chased them down and discovered their plot.  A house where a poker game is being played is blown up with what looks like a million pounds of TNT.  That took care of five or six.  Another one was going to do a few laps in her pool before her shift and when she jumped on the diving board it blew up and flung her end over end across the whole neighborhood.  Didn't seem like a very practical way to kill someone because she might have been able to tuck and roll her way out of death, but apparently the South Africans have a flair for the dramatic and a lot of explosives laying around collecting dust.

Which brings me to the plot to kill Murtaugh.  Somehow, they got in to his house and wired his toilet so that after he had a good poop and stood up from the pot, it would explode.  They stupidly gave him a hint about what would happen by writing, "Boom, you're dead!" on the toilet paper.

I'm so glad they spelled "you're" right.

Why did they do that?!  Nobody will ever know.  Murtaugh tried calling Riggs all night to tell him he was stuck on his toilet, but Riggs was too busy to answer his phone.  When he finally went to check on Murtaugh he discovered him on his toilet and they had a good laugh.

"It really stinks in here."

They called the bomb squad and the plan was to freeze the bomb with nitrogen to give Murtaugh enough time to jump in to the bathtub to avoid the blast.  That's why we are paying big bucks for bomb squads, so they can buy you one second before the bomb goes off and tell you where to jump while it explodes.  If this is really the way bomb squads work, we need to rethink bomb squads.  Anyway, Murtaugh has been sitting on the pot all night and he can't feel his legs anymore so Riggs decides to stay and help him into the tub.  The bomb squad guy tries to talk Riggs out of it, but Riggs is not moving because he and Murtaugh are soul mates.  Before the big jump into the tub Murtaugh and Riggs tell each other they love each other in their manly way and then they make the big jump.  They survive.

Actually, I think I have my chronology messed up somewhere there.  It doesn't matter.  Oh, I also forgot to tell you that Riggs can get out of a standard straight jacket by dislocating his own shoulder and wriggling out.  Okay, now that you know that, I can tell you that the South Africans kidnap Riggs and tell him that they are the ones responsible for killing his wife in a "car accident" four years earlier.  Then they put Riggs in a makeshift straight jacket and throw him into the ocean.  He gets out, of course, because he can dislocate his own shoulder, but while he is down there he sees his new South African babe.  She got the whole straight jacket treatment as well.  Riggs loses his mind.  He is going to avenge  his wife and girlfriend by taking on the South Africans on his own.

He calls Murtaugh and tells him, and Murtaugh, of course, agrees to help him out. They go to a ship where the big wig South African bad guy is making some kind of shady deal and they get in a shootout. It's bad.  The bad guy shoots Riggs but before he does he holds out his ID badge and says "Diplomatic immunity! HA HA HA HA!"  Then Murtaugh shoots him because he doesn't give a crap about diplomatic immunity.  After he does he says, "It's just been revoked."  BADASS!  Then Murtaugh goes to Riggs and holds his head in his lap and gives him the will to live.  He keeps saying, "Do not die until I tell you to," which I thought was weird.  And then Riggs wakes up and says, "You're a beautiful man," and they both have a good laugh.  I didn't see what was so funny.  I thought it was weird.  What were they laughing at?

I thought the second Lethal Weapon was better than the first.  Mitch had some problems because the Murtaugh family house was having some construction done and the nail gun worked without being attached to a compressor.

Mitch thinks the compressor probably didn't have a very good agent and that was the point at which Mitch could no longer suspend his disbelief.  I give the movie an A- and the minus is only for the weirdness in the last scene.  Mitch gives it a C- "at best" he says.  I think if it wouldn't have been for the lack of compressor, Mitch would have given it a solid B.  SO much happens!  I didn't even cover half of it.  Riggs chases cars on foot again! Joe Pesci is in the movie!

Murtaugh kills some South Africans with the nail-gun-with-no-compressor and then says, "Nailed 'em!"  You should see it.  In fact, if you want my VHS copy, email me your address and I'll send it to you.

Nightcrawler

I learned something very disturbing about my daughter last week when we were at my parent's house.  When we stay there, Kira and I share a room.  One night I went out and came home late.  She was still awake.   I said, "Why are you still up?" and she said, "Because I was just about to go on a night crawl."  I said, "What???"  And then she shut our room light off, dropped to her knees, opened the door and crawled out.  I thought she was just being creepy and was going to crawl into the bathroom in the dark and scare the crap out of me, but when I went in there to brush my teeth she wasn't there.  In the middle of my bathroom routine, she crawled in, shut the light off, and then crawled out.  When I got back to our room she was in there and I said, "What did you do?"  She said, "I told you. I went on a night crawl."  And then she went to sleep.

Here at home Kira has door beads that rattle whenever she goes in or out of her room.  Last night before bed she was tying them to the side and I asked her why she does that sometimes.  She said, "Because I'm going to get up at 3:30 and go on a night crawl and I don't want anyone to hear me." I said, "That's why you tie your beads back?  How long have you been night crawling?"  She said, "A long time."

Mitch got home late last night and I said, "Did you notice that Kira's beads are tied back?  She does that because she gets up in the middle of the night and crawls around the house in the dark. She calls it 'night crawling.' Apparently she does it on a pretty regular basis."  Mitch was totally creeped out.  When we went to bed he said, "Do you think we should shut and lock our door? I think we should.  Go lock it."  I said, "Why? It's not like she's going to kill us, she is just going to silently crawl up to the side of the bed in the dark in the middle of the night and stare at us for a while and then crawl away.  Where's the harm?" and Mitch shuddered.  I don't think he slept very well last night.

Ambition

Last night Mitch and I were watching an episode of Dexter, the show about the lovable serial killer of serial killers, and we saw guy who was bludgeoned in the head with a hammer, then he was disemboweled, then his guts were replaced with a handful of live baby snakes and he was sewn back up, then his body was dumped in the ocean. Mitch said,

"That's how I want to go."