Dear Spousal Unit:
Um, yeah… about NetFlix. See, here’s how it works… you watch a movie and then send it in, and they send you another movie to watch. So, saying to me, “Oh yeah, I’d love to see Capote” when the movie arrives off my queue and then refusing to watch it for a month is a problem. STOP. THAT. You might be willing to pay 19.99 a month for three movies, but I’m on a personal mission from God to watch as many indie films as possible in my lifetime and you are seriously messing with my calling. And I’m cheap. So, knock it off, m’kay? Thanks.
Dear Child Who Most Resembles His Father:
Um… see… we need to NOT talk. No, really. I’m not joking here. Your incessant talking, until midnight each night, to yourself, at the top of your lungs, is making it difficult for me to fulfill my calling. It’s bad enough that your father hangs onto movies in my queue for months on end, without you chatting up your imaginary fan club upstairs and drowning out all the dialog of my mission. I love you dearly, but this MUST STOP.
Furthermore, I have explained to you my theory that the divine universe only grants you so many words before you cease to exist. And at the rate you are using your words you will not live to be 12. This is unfortunate, because, besides the fact I will never see grandkids, I was so looking forward to watching your father try to teach you to drive when you are 15. Please do not deprive your aging mother of her fantasy of being your favorite parent for once–I am convinced that driving lessons will ensure this position for me. And face it–it’s all about me, so please try to get with the program. Be a good boy and SHUT THE HELL UP please be quiet by, say, nine pm. M’kay?
Dear Furball,
Um… here’s the thing. See, just because I’m sitting on the couch does not mean I want YOU sitting on me, sitting on the couch. Especially if I am also attempting to drink a mocha while sitting on the couch. You may not be aware of this little known fact, but humans are not in the habit of coughing up hairballs–we don’t like to drink your fur in our coffee. It’s not a condiment. We really don’t like choking while watching our movie from NetFlix (finally) and spewing chocolaty brown stuff all over the couch on which we happen to be sitting. This is disruptive on so many levels, not least of which is that in addition to being really uncomfortable, it’s almost impossible to follow the dialog of my movie when I’m turning purple from choking so hard. Sit someplace else.
And NO, the laundry pile isn’t an option either.
Dear NetFlix,
I don’t suppose I could send in my family for another set?
This is funny stuff, but it’s also serious. I don’t like wasting mochas or too much talking. (my mother is guilty of that) I like deciding who will sit on my lap or near me, especially if it’s an unpredictable animal.
Guilty as charged.
There was an article about how Netflix stalls the orders of people who returned movies too fast…like we used to do.
I don’t think you need to worry about this practice.
Do you know of Vongo? You can, for a monthly fee, download the movie to your laptop, plug your laptop into your TV and watch. You can do this 1/2 hour before watching time. This would give IZ time to decide that tonight was the night for Star Trek 12: The Search for Uranus.
Man, cats got nuthin’ on dogs. Dog’s don’t want to shed into your mocha. They want your mocha.
Oh, and that talking thing? Multiply it by three. You’ll want to take ice picks to both your eardrums on a daily basis.
Then I get a thought: How quiet will it be when they’re all gone? I will miss the banter and the elf-voices and the giggling. I’ll be sadder then than I am annoyed now.
Maybe.
rotfl. Your family is too funny!
Hey Princess’ Mom: don’t forget Star Trek 13: Fighting the Klingons.
Carrie… I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a dozen times, I’ll take Princess and we can both have two each. 🙂
Toraji–Yes, my family so enjoys my mocking them. In public. On my blog. ha ha ha!
Tomorrow. Park. Three. Nitroburning funny strollers. Stunts. Chitchat.
IZ sounds just like me–I buy/borrow/rent books and movies all the time and never actually get around to watching them. I’m sure I’ll drive someone crazy some day.
And your chit-chatting child sounds just like my little brother when he was that age. My mom always said that if he’d been born first, I would’ve been an only child. 🙂
And, finally, your furball sounds suspiciously like my furballs. I can’t vacuum/lintroll fast enough to keep up with them!
Hey there AOME… how are you? I’ve missed your blogging. Hope all is well. And if the Netflix thing is your only worry–then some guy is lucky to have you! 🙂