flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

December 20, 2013

Joyeaux Noel III

Ahhh, for the days when he didn't say "I hate" to everything...



  The Rogers Chronicles 2002  



The Rogers Chronicles is the newsletter you all wait for each year. It’s a way we keep all our loved ones updated on our ever-changing lives, and it’s a great piece of paper for you all to recycle.


2002 was just as bad as 2001, except it was a little worse.

In January, a suicide deer ended it all on the hood of the Outback, breaking our streak of several months without an accident. The Earth Liberation Front SDU (Suicide Deer Unit) is suspected, though they have yet to claim responsibility.

We still drive a lot, just to get them good and angry J.

Betsy decided to try to make herself (and those around her) more miserable by going on a Weight Watchers diet. She managed to meet her goals: she lost weight and was miserable for many months. Unfortunately, only the anger seems to have stuck: she is currently angry because she is gaining the weight back again. (more on that later). She runs about thirty miles a day, and she has guilted John into exercising as well. He is now up to one push-up a day. Doesn’t sound like a lot, but do the math: that’s 365 push-ups a year!

Betsy’s company sent her to Ireland for a few days. (Her diet was making them miserable, too.) Mullingar was once a one-horse-town, but the poor animal got bored and left. It beats what happened to the cow: A local farmer dumped its lifeless body into the local fresh water source, making the town water undrinkable and un-bathe-able. It’s a nice place to visit but… well, never mind. Betsy came home quickly, sporting a rather unique smell. L

In late May, the entire Rogers clan gathered in North Carolina for the annual beach trip. This was young Sean’s first real visit to the ocean (the Joisey shore didn’t count). Sean almost immediately developed an aversion to both sand and salt water. All he wanted to do was tear apart the house and terrorize his (bigger) cousins, Jack and Patrick. Patrick had nightmares about the pinching baby for months. For some reason, the trip is cancelled next year.

John’s company had a large meeting in September announcing sweeping layoffs and an invitation to Dorney Park for a party. Yippee! Sean proved to have no fear of rides, and indeed, tried to free himself of the evil restraints in the seats on every one of them. Betsy is still sprouting gray hairs from that day.

I'll Take A Large Pizza!
After a ten-year, multibillion-dollar government study, psychiatrists are now certain of one thing about parenting: it is important for parents to spend time with their children. No, really! It’s true! This threw us for a loop. The big study came too late for us. We think we ruined this one.
 
Sean. His Eminence. The Chairman. Center of the Universe. A rose by any other name…

Sean has an… interesting personality. He has Betsy’s pigheaded obstinacy mixed with John’s reckless desire to go where he shouldn’t. Those could be good traits someday, but they’re making the winter seem really long.

He also has cherubic looks and an easy, killer smile that instantly fool strangers into thinking He’s innocent. Doesn’t fool us - not for a second.

He talks to Himself a great deal, mostly because His parents ignore Him. Because of His isolation, Sean has come up with His own language. We call this Sean-ese.

Sean can’t go anywhere without His “tee-tee” (His blanket). In West Africa, “tee-tee” means little girl, which was of some concern for a time, and it sounds a lot like “TyTy,” which is Sean-ese for Titus, the dog. We still mix that one up sometimes.

Betsy bought several faux tee-tee (for Betsy is always finding new ways to spend money), and stashed them around the house for when we go on trips. When confronted with a counterfeit tee-tee, Sean knows He’s being snookered, but He tolerates it, expecting little more from MADDY. L

And of course, there’s Maddy (mah-di). At first, we thought Maddy was a person at His bargain daycare center: a cruel, child hating woman who apparently kept taking His tee-tee while spooning out the foulest gruel onto His tin plate. The truth was closer to home. When He is really angry, He blames us both. (Mommy + dADDY = MADDY – dommy) The title Maddy is usually served with a sour look meant to shame us. But we can’t be shamed.

He became disappointed in our patched together parenting skills at about age one, and He has several longstanding grievances, number one being THE CAGETM. Maddy, those beasts, argue that THE CAGETM is a humane form of confinement, keeping a child out of harm’s way while providing him a nice place to play with His pieces of cardboard and His imaginary friends.

Speaking of bad parenting, we’re doing the same thing all over again. Suffice it to say that though the unplanned child is far from unwanted, (s)he is unaffordable. We call her/him Sam, the Herald of Bankruptcy – at least in the monetary sense. (We’ve been morally bankrupt for some time now). We haven’t told the neighbors yet. They are still mad that we had the one kid. Two kids at the Roger’s household and the “FOR SALE” signs will start springing up like weeds throughout the neighborhood.

All in all, a tolerable year. We hope to come up with more interesting adventures in the upcoming year.

                                                                        Happiest of Holidays!

                                                                        John, Betsy, Sean, Sam, and Titus


                                   










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