Whoever invented the daylight-standard time rodeo obviously did not have children, specifically toddlers experiencing their first post-Halloween candy, tiger print hangover. Here's the Wiki situation on this.
B. Franklin had 17 children. He's somehow tied to this catastrophe. Ole Ben must have stored his numerous tots in the barn on this day and let the cows tend to them. George Vernon Hudson (the true architect of the disaster) had no children. So there you go. The bastard had spare time to screw around with the well being of his broody neighbors.
Thank you Wikipedia for useless nonesense related to daylights savings time.
Now back to present time. Holy crap. Misho awoke bright and frisky on the dot to what would have been his normal time of wakening and woo. I caved and sent Big D to do the morning needful. I stayed in bed, with a sore throat, attempting to make myself sicker than I was. I was sick. I am sick. I'm not kidding. But I did feel guilty. And then the day just spiraled downward from there.
Misho was cute. He's always cute. Evidence below:
But then he got sort of evil. Like the play on time made him realize his evil powers as a toddler. His nails instantaneously grew five inches. Blood spouted from his nose (he actually had a nosebleed from the runny nose he's been sportin for five days). He spoke in tongues. He went for the eyes. His head spun. I blame the timechange, plain and simple. Out of sorts, longer time till first nap, strange fall to winter lighting - good for a movie but not good for playtime - sun quitting early, parents wanting a nap desperately, perhaps just five minutes of this precious additional time so graciously bestowed to us by bastard George Vernon Hudson.
It was rough. Not real rough, but rough enough to provide some material for day one of "30 days and 30 blog entries." Some exaggeration allowed.
But serious, this is what I stared into most of the day:
Those eyes were staring at my throat. So cold...i'm so cold...
1 year ago