mrtl: Daddy's Little Helper

About a month ago we got Bug a trampoline. It collected dust in the garage until this weekend, when mister mrtl decided he was going to get it set up already. My plan was to disappear with the girls for a while. D-i-s-a-p-p-e-a-r. Read on.

::tangent::
I'm going to try not to turn this into a circus of tangents upon tangents, but I can already see the need for several side notes... Hell, I'm just going to throw it here. Read it at will.

Yesterday was Military Appreciation Day. Several places around town had free or reduced admittance, and so I figured I'd take Bug to the Imaginarium and the zoo at least. The museum was also a thought. We'd hit one place before lunch/nap, then one or two in the afternoon while mister mrtl played in the back yard. Unfortunately, the morning trip didn't go so well. Bug started getting tired and hungry and pitched a fit when it was time to leave; at least she didn't hit the floor, but the screaming alarmed several of the employees there. Running late, we rushed home, stopping off at a Burger King to get some chicken nuggets and milk for her. The second time ever buying her fast food -- did the same earlier this week when we were late getting home from taking Mary to the airport -- and it had the same effect on her digestive system, which wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't forgotten to put the chamber pot back in her potty -- Egads! Then she never took a nap, so she was uncooperative and cranky (no offense) for the rest of the afternoon, so there was no way I was taking her anywhere, but I sure did need to get away for a while. Besides, I needed to disappear.

Mister mrtl(assembly + tenacity) = frustration. There is a standing joke between us that I am the handy one. While doing the walk through before we closed on our first house, our realtor lady kept adressing mister mrtl when she talked about repairs needed. I can't remember exactly how it played out, but at some point I said, "I'm the handy one." He's never let me live that down. When there's something to be assembled, I'm the handy one. While he's perfectly capable of putting things together, when things go wrong (or not as they should), he tends to get impatient. Still, he doesn't like to walk away from a task. It pisses him off even more when he can't finish what he's started, so that frustration builds. And builds. And gets ugly. I've long given up suggesting that he give himself a break and come back fresh, and it's hard not to laugh at him when he's going completely nuts. Suffice to say my bemusement just pisses him off more. This is why I try to disappear when he goes for the tools. (Note that if I'm in a state of my own, bemusement gives way to annoyance, which has an equal, pissing effect on him.)
::end tangent::

When the plan to get out fell through, mister mrtl told me Bug could help him with the trampoline while I ran out with Jem for a while. Woot! Excellent! Breaktime! I dismissed my immediate reaction, grabbed the baby and headed for the van before he changed his mind.

What was my immediate reaction? Knowing my husband, knowing how frustrated he gets when he's assembling anything under normal conditions, I should have known better than to leave Bug with him. He didn't get enough sleep during the day and was working another mid shift last night. Add to that a tired, uncooperative, and precocious child. This made the equation mister mrtl(fatigue + assembly + tenacity)/ child(fatigue + crankiness) = frustration³.

When Jem and I got home and Bug was in bed, mister mrtl told me he wanted to go back outside but that he needed help holding things together while they were bolted. (This wasn't an issue of not being handy, but of not being handy enough. As in not having enough hands. It's a joke. Get it? I'm dying here.) My hesitance played heavily on my face. Didn't he want to take a nap? Besides, it was obvious the thing was driving him crazy; he had said as much. The last thing I wanted to do was go out there and help him under those conditions, but hell if I was going to tell him that. He wanted so badly to get the damned thing finished that when Jem started fussing, he asked if I could bring her out with us. Like he thought the mosquitos (Alaska's state bird - they're freakin' huge here -- important information to set up my next lame joke) wouldn't carry her off. Don't make me go out there with you! Didn't he want to take a nap?

He finally gave up trying to get me out there and went to bed.

It wasn't till this morning that he told me about how Bug was out there with him saying "Damn it!" as she happily helped him by handing him the springs. He showed me the blister on his palm, explaining how there were so many springs to pull and put in place. And GAH! The safety netting was impossible and driving him crazy!

It wasn't till tonight that Bug showed her precocious side. See, the child will hear something once and will then use it correctly in a different context later. Would it help to mention that she wouldn't take a nap again today? As mister mrtl tried futiley to get Bug to put on her jammies as she dodged him, prancing around and trying to get him to chase her, she started taunting him by yelling, "Say 'Damn it!' Say 'Damn it!'"

I don't know if I was stifling more laughs from how she uttered forth the phrase, perfectly replicating his frustration³intonation, or from watching mister mrtl keep a straight face while telling her it would be better to say, "Darn it!"

Comments

Ohhhhh! I love that they're little sponges, until they pick up something I shouldn't have said!

And about the mosquitos here -- you aren't exaggerating. And they're silent so you don't know they're near. Whoa.

Posted by: ~Kabe | 2006.05.22 at 03:11 AM

You forgot to mention that when she was saying "say damn it" that I said to her "put on your jammies, damn it." With a smile, people!

Posted by: The Anti-Stalker | 2006.05.22 at 04:22 AM

And one other thing, Bug was quite the helper when I was assembling the trampoline. She handed me 72 springs with a smile.

Posted by: The Anti-Stalker | 2006.05.22 at 04:23 AM

Reminds me of the time my middle sister asked my mother (right in front of a repairman), "Hey Mom??? What's a bastard?"

Posted by: wordgirl | 2006.05.22 at 11:24 AM

Oof. Remind me never to buy an unassembled trampoline. It teaches the children far too many new skills.

Posted by: Daphne | 2006.05.22 at 11:47 AM

And then there's the time (which I blogged about) where Audrey, who had just learned to read, observed some graffiti and said, "Why does that say F**K?"

And she's only had fast food TWICE? My hat is off to you.

Posted by: Andrea | 2006.05.22 at 12:03 PM