One for the life-before-your-eyes show

The other day theWife was teasing theBoy as he sat at the big table eating. He laughed so hard he choked, gagged, threw up in his mouth, swallowed the throw up, then laughed some more.

Total gold. 

Today theBoy asked theWife about other children who have found me annoying. She then named every single child we have even known ever. When she finished the list theBoy then added himself to it (1).

Also gold. 

And he's right. I can be extremely annoying. Today for instance on the way to work we played 'Spotto, Catch Shrink'. It's where you see a yellow car (yellowish is also accepted) and yell 'Spotto!' Having claimed it you then follow up with 'Catch Shrink' which is you 'catching' the yellow car and then shrinking it. The idea is you collect yellow cars. Eventually, like a catch-and-release fisherman, you 'Release Grow' the cars and let them speed on their way.

I'm really good at it. Like super fucking good. I just have to catch the merest distant flash of yellow and my body and brain fuse into a single perfect being to Spotto the absolute fuck out of the offending far away custard car (2). theBoy, with his restricted view and lesser capability, hasn't a fucking chance. So I win, constantly, effortlessly. 

This morning I compounded it. Not only did I win ... I gloated. I didn't mean to but the glee seized me just post announcement of the 'Spotto, Catch Shrink!' and I totally ended up being super gloatingly gleeful. That's like pulling a rip cord on a mower. You can't gloat over a four-year-old. They will lose their shit. Fortunately for us all his shit losing was minor and over in seconds but theWife rightfully told me off.

I don't know why I love annoying people. Maybe it's because deep down I only annoy people I actually like?

So there you go. If I actively seek to annoy you then I probably likes ya, ya big lug (playfully taps your chin with knuckles).

(1) Favourite Simpsons' list-related humour: their riff on Nixon's enemies list. 
(2) Slight confession. I practice the game whenever I drive alone. I can be deep into listening to whatever podcast I am beholding—almost certainly a Marc Maron interview or some blend of goodness from NPR—but if I see yellow it's enough to kick me into the present to then loudly proclaim its sighting and seizure of its soon-to-be reduced form.