After werk, I was finishing up some shizz and minding my own beeswax when the boy came into the kitchen and he was all, “Dad, what’s for dinner?” And I was all, I haven’t given it much thought since I’ve been, you know, werking all day and stuff. And the boy was all, “As long as it’s not Mexican eats.” And I was all, Probably not.
And the boy was all, “I vote for Vietnamese eats!” And I was all, Probably not. And the boy was all, “You’re just jealous cuz Vietnamese peeps are better than Taiwanese peeps.” And I was all, Yeah, whatevs.
Then I was all, Wait a sec, are you wearing the same shirt as I am!?! And the boy was all, Probably.
Turian fringes and mandibles are much like human fingernails, or the claws/talons of an animal. They feel, at the base, but can be trimmed or filed down at their tips. A good, soldierly turian, keeps his fringe and mandibles short, which is very practical on the battlefield.
Rebellious teenage turians might wear their fringes longer, and older turians will grumble about how ridiculous it looks.
Executor Palin’s long mandibles were like a dignified goatee on an older man.
The elongated cheekbone extensions that Saren kept were akin to a large and villainous mustache.
For whatever reason, the boy had been resisting reading Harry Potter. Over the summer, tho, busy daddy and I bought the entire Harry Potter series, and the boy recently started reading The Sorcerer’s Stone after school and before bedtime.
My kid said to me, “Dad, we should pretend that your name is Phil and my name is Alex, and we’re having an argument about Harry Potter, and Phil is losing the argument, so then Alex was like whatevs, which made Phil even madder and stuff!!!” And I said, This story would be so much better if we acted it out wearing fake mustaches!!! And the boy said, “Obvs.”
For my entire childhood, I always dreaded Wednesdays cuz Wednesdays were piano lesson days. Did I ever tell you that I hated strongly disliked piano lessons? Like, I even tried to break my hands when I was a kid so that I wouldn’t have to take piano lessons anymore. Probably not the most thought-out plan I ever had.
Even years after I stopped taking piano lessons, I still dreaded Wednesdays. I guess most peeps lurve Wednesdays cuz it’s the middle of the week and stuff, and everything goes downhill from there, but Wednesdays will forever have the stink of piano lessons for me.
Before I had a kid, I promised that if I ever had a kid, I wouldn’t ever force my kid to take music lessons if he didn’t want to. Now that I have a kid, I force encourage him to take violin lessons. Every Wednesday. And every Sunday.
I like to tell myself that I’m giving my son a gift, and that gift is showing him that Wednesdays are a good day to take pics with his future kid wearing fake mustaches. Before music lessons.