My little Kimba ... I mean Simba

With thanks to The Simpsons for the post title.

theBoy is nearly five—which is both awesome and blows my mind—but he’s still a young child. And being a child means he has to grapple with reigning in his Id when emotion seizes him.

I annoy theBoy; a lot. It’s my way of being affectionate—if I try and annoy you then I probably like you—plus it forces him to interact with me. He can’t ignore my annoying, unless, of course, theWife steps in and puts a stop to it and sends me away or advises theBoy to walk off.

If he’s super annoyed, and he’s pushed past the bounds of a normal ‘Daddy please stop annoying me’ response, then he may go his lion roar. It consists of him opening his mouth as wide as he can and roaring as loud as he can—a pure emotive ‘fuck off’ roar of fury.

In ole whitey, our second car (and former first car), I have a jury-rigged set up of a cigarette lighter adapter and portable speaker. It’s so I can jack in my Mp3 player and listen to podcasts to and from work. Only the speaker, or more correctly the connecting cord between the speaker and the Mp3, is a piece of shit. Indeed it’s the second such piece of shit I have purchased—both from Woolworths no less—that has failed on me. This connecting cord, a very thin one, has frayed internally and unless the cord is in a particular position the speaker cuts out. And as I drive then car vibrations will vibrate the ensemble out of position. I tried finding a new USB power / headphone jack / speaker connection cord but could not. So I am stuck with this one for now.

As I cruised along this morning the fucking speaker cut out about a dozen times. Eventually I lost my rag at it.

I roared; a great leonine theBoy-style roar at the stupid piece of cheap crap cord that once again had fucked up. In extreme frustration I yanked the cord out and gave up on trying to listen to the podcast, turning on ABC News Radio instead. Fortunately for me all this occurred just after the giant unnecessary slab of sports news that infests ABC News Radio from about 8:32 through to 8:50 am.

I guess we all have our roar inducers. Mine is inanimate objects not doing what they’re supposed to.

His is me.

UPDATE: I managed to get a new speaker. I am ashamed to say that despite my kvetching ... I got the same model from the same place; Woolies. I took the old speaker and frayed cord into the shed. I had the idea I could leave it in there and use it with my Beloved when riding the TPC (1). I couldn't find my old power plug USB charger so I turned on the near dead laptop—using a USB port to power the speaker—and it all seemed to work. Then I untangled the cord and set it all up, ready for it's new long life in retirement. Except of course the untangling of the cord finally broke what little connectivity remained within. It is now finally totally fucked. 

And yes ... I roared at it when it happened. Sometimes a man's just gotta roar.

(1) The TPC (1a) an exercise bike still technically owned by the enigmatic Casso, a sorceress of the far east known both for her opulent palace and her fine Fu Manchu moustache. I am in the process of getting around paying her for said TPC. It will happen!
(1a) Don't know what the Beloved is or what the TPC stands for? Seriously? Oh for God's sake just look it up.