Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Green and Red - Nope, not Christmas.

Top 'O the mornin' to ya! Or Bottom 'O the evenin' to ya - depending on your time zone.

Hey kids - Tiz your Uncle Scrubbie here! How are ya'll doin?

Gee whiz boys & girls - it's St.Patrick's Day! And, as a result, I am typing in Green for ya. Are ya feelin' all Irish?

If yer readin' this and yer into St
.Pat's Day ('round here in the Great White, anyway) it is more than likely that you are just a wee bit on the tipsy side from sluggin' back barley, malt and hops that has been tinted the colour of the green green grass of home. It is also likely you are wearing a plastic hat that is a colour of green that is not found in nature. And, you are probably sayin' "Wha thu frack am I doin reedin' this she-ite!? Gimme another green beer bar-keep!"

Well, trust me kids - it don't get much better when yer sober. Sorry bout that.

Nevertheless (gee that's a long word to type) - St.Pat's Day - Scrub can't deny the fun and festivities that just fuel up us Nanooks of the North as Spring approaches.
So - Scrub'll wrap up this section of my post by wishin' ya all the Luck of the Irish! May it last the whole year through!

On to topic 2.

Hey - this one's in red! OOOOOOO - excitin' ain't it? What does it remind you of? Passion? Yummy Cinnamon Hearts? The colour of Luv?

Me - I gots somethin' else runnin' through my

See - couple years ago - 3 to be exact - on this very day - St.Patrick's Day
(whoops - little green got thrown in there!) - so , ya, 3 years ago, March 17th, 2006 - there was Scrub and the Kid - hangin' at home.

The Kid - he was all of 9 yrs old at the time.

March Break here in the Great White. That time of year in the Great White when all the brats get a week off school to torment their parents. Last day of March Break. Middle of the afternoon.

2:10pm as a matter of fact.

Scrub's in the engine room of the igloo. The kid - flopped in front of the tube catchin' an afternoon fix of some animated somethin' er other. Scrub's gots a pot of Irish Stew on the hot box bubblin' away.
Figured I s'prise the wife when she came home from whaling and fishing that day.

Scrub's at the computer in the engine room, bangin' on the keyboard.

"What's that?" I think to myself?

Kinda like a train rumblin' by.
But, ain't no tracks close to the igloo.

Maybe a big 'ol truck?
On our little street? Nah - can't be that.

"What the hell is that?"
The rumblin is gettin louder. And LOUDER. And LOUDER.

All of a sudden... KA BOOM.

And when I say KA BOOM... I

2:11 pm Eastern Standard Time.

Now - remember - Scrub's in the engine room. Here is the Great White - some of our igloos are half buried underground. Seriously. No kidding. Half underground. We do it to gain a little extra space. Besides - livin' half underground keeps us warm in the snow.

Anyway - Scrub's in the engine room. Bein' a fancy schmancy igloo - we got concrete walls. Sturdy, eh? But - also gotta remember... KA-FRACKIN'-BOOM! Them concrete walls shook!
The ground shook. Stuff fell off the walls.

The kid - "

Scrub - bolts up the stairs like his hair's on fire.

"Did a truck hit the house!?" I mean SERIOUSLY! What the f
rack was that?!

Scrub comes upstairs - and - well... HOLY FRACK! The igloo's on fire.

No kiddin'. ON FIRE. BIG FIRE.

Well - long story short - (too late) - Scrubbie and the Kid had to hi-tail it outa there prit' darn quick. Mostly cause of the big fireball that was comin' right for us.

That and the sound of the natural gas hissing and sputterin' that was makin the fire burn with a sound - well - kinda like one of them big jumbo 747 jet plane things parked right there in the yard with Mr.Pilot grinnin' while he gots his one foot on the gas pedal and the other on the brake just so's it sounds kewl. Know what I mean? Ya - not a fun sound.

Well - long story short - (whoops - still too late) - Scrub, the Wife, the Kid, even the lunatic dog were homeless, cold, and didn't have nothin' to their names. Weird. I mean - really weird.

All the stuff - ya know - cups, dishes, clothes, pictures, wedding stuff, baby stuff, well... everything... ka-boom.


(See that picture there - the kid with Mama Scrubbie... ain't that just the most painful look on a kid ya ever seen?)

Oh - now don't go all soft on Scrub. It was the easiest move from one igloo to another we ever had. Just a grocery bag.

Now yer jealous, aren't ya!

Turns out some firebug was gettin' his or her giggles by puttin flame to paper and watchin' what happens. Lil' bastard.

There ya go aga
in - gettin' soft on me. STOP IT. Seriously. Don't go there.

The Wife and me - we're both first to say that that whole deal - probably the best thing that ever happened to us as a family. Really changes things.

Don't get me wrong - not recommending it as an alternative to a good session with a shrink. But, as it did happen - we took a few days to boo-hoo - then, mostly thanks to the kid - we simply "decided" to turn it around and make it somethin to embrace.

Haha - easiest move ever - just a grocery bag. Still makes me giggle.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

My Dear Mr. Scrubbie You have such a way with words and it was an awful day but you and the Missus always seem to come through it and on to the next adventure. Luv U MommaLou