In case you didn’t notice the large button on the toolbar above, we are once again shamelessly promoting our next Christmas Party.  Check it out, watch the silly trailer we hacked together, and let us know if you can make it.

It’s a good time, if you are reading this blog there are probably lots of people you would know there.

That is all.

It doesn’t pay to be late to an appointment.  Usually a hurried, late entry makes a bad impression.  I tend to spout apologies, layering them around me to cushion the slight annoyance that tardiness brings to most people.  Sometimes there can be graver consequences to being late, as I discovered Thursday night.

I was running late to get my hair cut.  To make matters worse, I was the last appointment of the day.  On top of that, there was nobody there before me, and as I pull up I see the hair guy sitting in the chair, clearly waiting for me to get my ass over there.  Even better, his receptionist is also waiting with a girlfriend, apparently they all drive together.  Oh great, so now I show up 13 minutes late and look like a huge jerk, making 3 people late to get home.  I apologized profusely and my extremely competent hair dresser starts to whack away at my rapidly thinning mop as usual.  Small talk ensues.  I think things are just fine, and they probably are, until he’s done his usual very thorough cut and starts to blow-dry my hair.  He’s at it for quite a while.  I never do this at home, and he knows this but always insists on it.  It’s probably a professional pride thing, which I can understand completely, the guy is really very good.  The only slight difference this time is by the time I leave I have a very different hair style from what I normally wear.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, until I got home and Nikki got a look at me.

She was very tactful, if by tactful you mean explosive snorting and laughter.  

 

“Honey, David Hasselhoff called and he wants his hairdo back.”

“Did you and Kitt run into any traffic?”

“I washed your new trunks for you.”

That sort of thing went on for quite a while until I scrubbed some water through my hair and managed to reduce the volume a bit.

So the moral of the story is to not be late, it can have a detrimental effect on your home life, esteem, and relationships.  I solemnly swear to never be late to another hair cut again, my marriage depends on it.

Here’s a rather late post to wish my sister Whitney a Happy Birthday, imagine that.  Be seeing you this week I believe….

Hard to believe she’s so much older than me, eh?  Well preserved, indeed.

This morning Cael pokes my arm as I’m sleeping; “Dad.  Dad!”  I groggily roll over and he’s standing there at 6:05am, it’s pitch black, and he has a large black toque pulled down over his entire head, but is otherwise only wearing Batman underwear.  That’s probably what saved him, if he had been dressed I would have been spending the next few minutes changing my shorts and calming him down after a fat lip.  “What are you doing, buddy?”

“Do I look like a robber to you?”

“Yes, you do.  Now go back to bed.”

Off he went to his room to ramble and bang around while I tried to pretend that I was able to get back to sleep.

How did that seem like a good idea to him?  The smartest thing he did was poke my arm, and not Nikki’s.

I mentioned that Rock Band was cool a few months ago, but then Nikki and the kids gave it to me for my birthday and we have had some time to hone our skills quite a bit since then.  It’s great fun, the whole family enjoys it a lot and where else do your kids get to learn the words to Weezer, Soundgarden, The Ramones, the list of suggestive and inappropriate lyrics goes on.  Nikki’s eyebrows have disappeared upwards at times as Quinn tries to keep up with reading the lyrics.  The latest favourite for the lads to do together is Mississipi Queen.  If you know what I mean.

I find myself incapable of parental outrage at this, since I’m overwhelmed by some sort of twisted pride that my kids are getting exposed to some pretty good music, let alone learning the words.  It’s fun stuff, and there is a real sense of learning to play the drums (if not the guitar) you get from the game.  It’s not as easy as it looks, and things get out of hand very quickly.  Anyway, there is also a strong sense of showmanship that I must say that Cael is really figuring out.  He’s not so good with the technical side of actually playing the game and succeeding (there’s usually a lot of “saving” going on), but when it comes down to pure entertainment, he’s hard to beat.  

Don’t believe me?  Here’s Rob, Quinn and Cael absolutely demolishing a song….